Brutal Attack
by Mooncat99
Summary: Charlie's brutally attacked. But why? Will they be able to find the culprits?
1. Prologue

Title: Brutal Attack

Author: Mooncat

Summary: Charlie's brutally attacked. But why? Will they be able to find the culprits?

Rating: K 

Warnings: Obviously, some physical brutality, some curse words.

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Numb3rs'.

Copyright: Sarah Diaz, 200772008

_**Brutal Attack**_

**Prologue**

He never saw it coming. One moment he was busy balancing his back bag, his laptop bag and a stash of paper he needed to drop off while he locked the door to his office, the next he was pushed forward and his back exploded with pain under the hard hit it took. Instantly, a kick into the back of his knees followed and he went down with a strangled yelp. The moment he hit the floor, the blows kept raining down on him, kicks trying to mutilate even more of his body.

Already too dazed to stand any chance in fighting back, he did the only thing he could do. He fell back on the hard lessons he had learned during his teenager years and drew up his knees to roll himself into a tight ball, covered his head with his arms and made himself as small as possible, protecting the vital body parts. His sides were aflame after another vicious kick and though he hadn't heard a crack, he suspected that at least some of his ribs were broken.

The blows kept raining, voices hissed words he was too dazed to decipher and he started to fear that they wouldn't stop before he was dead.

Jeez, his brother would be so pissed.

It was the last thought he had as in that second, a hard kick was delivered to the back of his head and everything went black.

* * *

He wasn't dead, but he felt like dying might have been more merciful, as he digested upon waking up, disoriented, needing a moment to remember how it came that he was lying on the cold floor and everything was _hurting_.

The corridor was dark, the building silent.

Right. He had been the last one left in the building, once again, having been lost in the equation he was working on for Don.

Don.

His brother would be pissed, definitely. Pissed at Charlie for being caught by surprise like that. Probably also pissed at the ones attacking him but mostly, Don would be pissed at him. He didn't like to be scared.

But perhaps, Don didn't need to know?

Charlie tried to move and was blinded by the pain that exploded all over his body. With a groan, he stilled again.

Think again, he saw little chance that Don wouldn't get wind of this. Sometimes it was really annoying to have a big brother who on top of that also happened to be a FBI agent. There were various possibilities of how Don would learn of this incident, the more plausible ones that either, their father would get worried when Charlie wouldn't show up within an hour as he had promised his dad when he had called to remind Charlie to call it a day and come home - or, if his father had given up on him, as soon as morning would come and the cleaning crew would go through the building at five am.

Uh, if tomorrow was Thursday or Tuesday. What day was it again? Charlie tried to remember, but he honestly couldn't remember, which increased his worry into a slight panic. While temporary memory loss wasn't unusual for a concussion, which was a likely injury after the beating he had suffered, it also was a sign for brain damage, the one thing Charlie probably feared the most.

It wasn't always easy, living with his brain - but it sure also gave him a world full of wonders and he wasn't ready to lose that yet.

Wednesday!

Charlie had had the math for dummies lecture that afternoon, he was sure of that and that meant, it was Wednesday.

Relieved, Charlie closed his eyes. Or had he had them closed already?

Didn't matter. All he wanted was to lie there, unmoving and rest, escape the pain into sleep.

Of course, if the cleaning crew found him like this, they'd probably get a shock. Then they would call security. They in turn would call the police. Who would no doubt call Don. But just what would they tell his brother? Besides, he for sure wasn't keen on being found like this. Or have word of this get out, at least not with visuals. Actually, the less people knew about what had happened, the better.

Right.

Gritting his teeth, Charlie tried to push himself up from the floor, determined to move now.

Bad idea. Stifling a cry, Charlie sank back down, trying to catch his breath and get over the spell of sudden dizziness.

'_Come on, Eppes. You can do it. Not like you've never done it before,'_ Charlie quietly cheered himself on once he was ready to try to get up again.

_'Yeah, but it's been a while. And I've been younger,' _his more logical part reminded him.

Charlie ignored it. He wasn't going to let someone find him like that, chance that this someone would then call Don. Or worse, his dad.

Shit, his dad...

Grimly, he pushed up again - and stayed up until the worst of the world spinning was over. Grimacing at the pain the movement caused, Charlie somehow managed to prop up against the door to his office.

So far, so good.

He'd just need a little moment of rest before he worked his way up to his feet.

* * *

TBC!

(Author's Note: This is the first of 6 parts (yeah, this story is actually already finished, waiting to be posted). Hope you enjoyed it and more soon!)


	2. The Call

**The Call**

With a groan, Don reached for his phone, smiling apologetically at Lauren. Apparently, whoever called him just wouldn't get the hint that he didn't want to be disturbed. Probably, it was the office.

Or, he thought glowering as he read the display, it was an annoying pain in the ass little brother. Charlie better hoped this was important. Probably wanted to tell him that he finished the equation he had been working on for Don, not that it was that important that it couldn't wait 'til morning and Charlie should know that. Briefly, he considered to simply cut the call off, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it. While it wasn't unusual for Charlie to be up all night, he rarely called this late. So it could be important.

"Sorry, gotta take this," he told Lauren with a sigh and moved away from their table to have some privacy.

Not that he mistrusted Lauren - but he had just met her. This was their first date. And Don was too much of an agent to let a stranger know too much of his personal side. It just wasn't safe. Of course that didn't leave that much conversation material so he had to find other things to talk about - or even better, things to occupy them that didn't require talking at all. It usually worked well enough. Then again, perhaps that was why he usually only went on a couple of dates.

Shaking his head, he finally answered the call. "This better be good, Charlie."

Silence met him and Don frowned. "Charlie?"

Another long pause of hearing nothing. Don was about to hang up, thinking that Charlie had probably just forgotten to put in the key lock again, when finally, his brother's voice came through the line.

"Don."

"Yeah, what is it, Chuck?" Don replied, impatiently.

"Uh... I... uh... Can you come pick me - up?" Charlie answered slowly, his speech slightly slurred.

Don's frown was back. "Are you drunk, Charlie?" he wanted to know, suspiciously. Charlie rarely drank, mainly because he simply couldn't hold the liqueur. But from time to time, Charlie did go out, drinking a little too much. And once or twice, he had called Don to come pick him up. Now was so not a good time for that though.

His brother giggled. "Nope... sadly not. Sure wish... I were. Where was... I?"

Don's frown deepened. "You wanted me to pick you up."

"Oh... Yeah, right. So you'll... come?" Charlie asked hopefully.

Shaking his head, Don glanced back at the blond beauty he had left at their table, silently cursing his brother. "Now's not a good time, Charlie. Can't you take a cab?"

Again a long pause. "I could probably," Charlie finally replied, still unusual slow, still slurring his words a bit. "But then, I'm not... sure I can... make it out... by... myself." Another little pause in which Don's eyes snapped away from his date, focusing back on his brother. What had Charlie just said? "And I... I think they... took my... wallet."

His date totally forgotten, Don tightened the grip on his phone. "What? Charlie, what are you talking about?" With growing fear, Don quickly added the things he had learned together and came to a more than just a bit disturbing conclusion. "Are you hurt?"

Silence.

"Charlie!" he bellowed.

"Not so loud," his little brother whimpered and suddenly, his voice sounded awful weak. Why hadn't Don noticed that before?

"Are you hurt?" Don repeated himself, telling himself to stay calm. When Charlie didn't answer again, his fear grew. "Charlie," he warned, in a low voice this time.

"Some," Charlie finally answered hesitantly.

His heart tightening painfully, Don forced himself not to panic and sprung into action. Within a second, he had his keys in his hand and was already sprinting towards his SUV.

"Where are you?"

"Uh, home... No! - No... Office. In front of my... office. I was... leaving for home," Charlie slowly told him, the confusion in his voice alarming Don even more.

Speeding out of the parking lot, Don headed North, towards CalSci, careful to not lose the cell phone that was pressed between his ear and shoulder. As soon as he could, he moved it quickly to his speaker phone so he could concentrate on driving. The rational part of him acknowledged that he should call for an ambulance. But that would mean to end the call with Charlie and he found himself unable to do this, to cut this only connection to him while he was hurt and vulnerable. Besides, Charlie sounded as he was going to pass out and it was also important, to keep him talking.

Right.

"Okay, you were leaving. What happened then?" Don wanted to know, as much for himself as for keeping Charlie talking.

"Dunno. - Pain... Someone attacking me from behind - blows - kicks... Think I passed out then," Charlie replied, each word taking more time to be spoken.

Pressing down hard onto the gas, Don flipped on the siren. The loud sound couldn't compete with the hammering of his heart though.

"I'm on my way, Buddy," Don promised his little brother, forcing himself to sound calm, reassuring. "I'll be there in a little bit. How hurt are you?"

No answer.

"Charlie?" Don nagged, not able to keep the panic out of his voice this time.

"N... Not so bad, Don. - Hurts though," Charlie tried to calm his brother's fear. "Everything's just a bit fuzzy right now... No need to worry, though... Bro."

Don would have laughed at that - if he had felt anything like laughing. What he felt was rather closer to crying. "Already too late for that, Buddy."

"'m fine, Donnie," Charlie said quietly - and weakly.

Willing his car to go even faster, Don made a sharp turn that left the tires screeching.

"Call me Donnie again and I'll make you eat it back, Chuckie," Don attempted a playful reproach.

Charlie laughed dryly, then coughed, followed by a strangled groan. It was the first sound of pain that had escaped Charlie and it sent Don out of his mind with worry.

"No jokes, Donnie," Charlie finally rasped.

"Wasn't a joke," Don gave back, his voice thick though.

"Shouldn't have called Don." Don could hear his brother mumble. "Knew he'd be pissed."

Don narrowed his eyes. "The hell you shouldn't have!" he interrupted his brother.

Charlie sighed. "Didn't call... to worry... you. Just... need you... to help me... up. Get me... home. Sneak me... past... Dad."

His grip on his wheel tightened. "Sorry, Buddy, but that won't work. You're hurt, so I'm worried. And as soon as I'll get there, which will be in just a little bit, we'll get you straight to the hospital. And really, you of all people should know that there's no way for Dad to not notice that you're not your chirper self."

"'m no bird!" Charlie protested weakly. "Don't wanna go... to the... hospital. Not - necessary," he then whined, sounding just like he did when he was nine years old and had to be literally dragged to the hospital to get his broken arm set.

Don snorted and then sighed in relief when _finally_, the buildings of the university came in sight. "You'll let me be the judge of that. I'm pulling into the parking lot right now. Just a couple minutes more and I'll be with you, Buddy."

"Careful... don't... don't know how long... I... was out. Could be still... lurking... around, Donnie," Charlie warned him, his voice taking on a worried note.

"No need to worry about me, Buddy," Don reassured his brother, already flipping open the strap on his holster to keep his right hand at the but of his gun and proceeded with long strides towards the building that hosted Charlie's office, his jaw grimly set. He wished he'd run into Charlie's attackers. He truly wished they'd be so stupid to take it on with him. He longed to give them a piece of their own receipt. Hell, if he got them, there was no guarantee what he'd do.

But first he had to get to Charlie, get him to safety, to a hospital. Once his little brother was safe though...

He reached Charlie's wing without running into anyone. "I'm just around the corner now, Charlie."

No answer.

"Charlie?!"

Still not getting an answer, his sprint gained a spurt as his fear toppled once again. Not paying any attention to his surroundings anymore, Don rounded the corner. His eyes, already having adjusted to the darkness in the corridor, didn't take long to make out the slumped figure of his little brother on the floor, leaning against the door to his office, his head lolling down on his chest.

His heart stopping for a torturous moment, he propelled forward, falling to his knees beside his brother.

"Charlie?"

Carefully, he moved Charlie so that he leaned against Don's chest, his head now leaning against his brother's shoulder. His hand shaking a bit, Don reached up to lay his fingers onto his neck, searching and praying for a pulse.

"Charlie," he sighed relieved as he felt his brother's pulse beat strong against his fingers. Then, more forcefully, he called for his brother again. "Charlie!"

His eyes fluttered open and Charlie groaned. "Don?"

"I'm here, Buddy," Don assured him softly, tightening his grip - and loosening it immediately when Charlie let out another groan.

"Took you... long... enough," Charlie breathed, closing his eyes again.

"No, no, no, Charlie!" Don protested and applied a fracture more pressure, grimacing. "Stay with me, Buddy. I'm fairly sure you've got a concussion," he continued and proceeded to gently probe Charlie's head. It didn't take him long to find the bump on the back of Charlie's head, the yelp that escaped Charlie upon reaching it a dead give away as well. And by the stickiness of Charlie's hair around the bump, Don guessed there was blood as well. Shit. Definitely a concussion. "You've got to stay awake, Charlie," he told his little brother, not bothering to hide his concern this time.

"Tired, Donnie," Charlie sighed.

"I know, Charlie, but you have to," Don insisted, looking around. He needed light so he could better assess in just what a state his bother was. Charlie had to go to the next hospital, that was for sure, but he didn't want to move his brother and risk a permanent damage.

"Up to your... left."

Don turned back to his brother. "What?"

"The light switch - up to your... left," Charlie told him.

Not losing even more time, Don reached up, searching for the switch. There! Light flooded the corridor, causing the brothers to squeeze their eyes shut against the sudden brightness.

"Turn off!" Charlie begged, his face lined with pain.

"Sorry," Don though denied his brother's plea. "Just keep your eyes closed." He gently eased Charlie to lean back against the door so he could take inventory of Charlie's injuries.

There were quite a lot. The little skin visible was already turning dark with bruises and there were some bloody scratches. His face darkening, Don pushed up Charlie's shirt to get a better look at his torso and cursed at the many big bruises forming there already as well. There wasn't much more to see superficially, but that didn't calm Don in the slightest. What there was more hurt internally was what made his blood run cold.

"Anything broken?" he asked, barely managing to not let his voice betray the fear and rage he was feeling.

The frown appearing on Charlie's forehead was the only thing that kept Don waiting patiently for an answer. "Think couple of rips… are broken," Charlie finally answered, his eyes still closed. "And the back… of my lower leg hurts… really bad, the… right one, but I… don't think it's really… broken. Sprained though… maybe."

Gritting his teeth, Don needed a moment before he could speak again, not wanting to risk his voice betray the absolute fury he was feeling and which was growing by the second.

Those bastards. When he got his fingers on them...

Battling down his forceful thoughts of revenge, Don remembered his phone, lying beside him. Taking it up, he noticed that it was still connected to Charlie's. He ended that call and pressed speed dial.

"What... you doing?"

He looked up to see Charlie watching him with his big brown eyes, hooded by pain though. "I'm calling this in," Don told him sourly, waiting for being put through to dispatch.

"No! Not... necessary!" Charlie protested.

Don gave him a hard stare. "You were attacked, Charlie. Someone has beaten the shit out of you. Hell, they could have killed you. And someone is going to pay for this. So I want this scene swept for any possible traces left by the bastards. But most of all, you need to get to the nearest hospital."

"Don..."

"No discussion, Charlie," Don interrupted whatever protest Charlie had wanted to make.

At last, dispatch put him through. "This is Special Agent Don Eppes, FBI. I report a 242, possible 217. Code 4, 901 N. California University of Science, Northern building, West wing, ground floor, office 029, Dr Charles Edward Eppes."

"All right, Agent, ambulance and a team is on its way," dispatch informed him. "ATA 7 minutes."

"Thanks." Don ended the call to grow aware that Charlie was staring at him startled.

"217?"

Don said nothing, just moved Charlie so that he was once again leaning against him. There wasn't much more he could do for his brother at the moment.

"Don... no one tried... to kill... me," Charlie said softly. "Just… scare me. Teach me… a lesson perhaps."

Don stared ahead. "We don't know that yet. This looks like more than just trying to give you a scare. Nor is this a simple mugging. And what lesson should they have wanted to give you, Charlie? For all we know, they only stopped and left when they thought you were dead. They for sure didn't seem to have held back." He frowned. "How many were it anyway?"

"Not sure," Charlie answered. "Three or four. And they'd be... stupid... to think... I was... dead... if they... wanted me... dead. Just had... to check... pulse."

"No one ever said that criminals have to be smart. A lot of them are really stupid," Don contradicted Charlie, forcing his hands to stay relaxed. Three or four. Four on one. Four on _Charlie_. He was so looking forward to get his hands on those assholes.

"True but... unlikely here at... CalSci," Charlie though pointed out.

"So what? Anyone can come in here, especially at night. Security here at campus really is a joke," Don growled. "You still working for Walker on those gang related crimes? Perhaps some of the boys took offence and came to stop you or for revenge. Can you give a description of the guys?"

"No. Came from... the back... Went down immediately... Cared more about... protecting myself," Charlie explained. "Don't think... were gang members... though."

"Don't worry, you did good," Don hurried to reassure Charlie. Unimaginable what would have happened if Charlie had put up a fight. Not that Charlie had had any chance at all with them hitting him from behind. Those damn cowards. "Why not gangsters?"

But Charlie just gave a tiny shrug that called for an immediate grimace. "Dunno. Can I... sleep now... please?"

Checking Charlie's feature, Don was alarmed to see that Charlie had paled considerably. Damn, where was that ambulance? Stroking back some loose curls from his brother's face, Don's fingers trailed down his neck to check his pulse again. It was still steady, but Don had the impression that it had weakened since his initial check.

"No, Buddy, not yet. Just hold on for a bit longer, okay?"

"'kay," his brother sighed, his body slightly trembling in Don's arms.

Pulling Charlie closer, Don willed the ambulance to hurry.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, guys! Hope you liked the second part as well. Four more to go. Soon, promise!)_


	3. Waiting

**Waiting**

Don was pacing impatiently in the waiting room when he felt his cell phone vibrate against his hip. Snatching it up, he glanced briefly at the display and his eyes widened.

"Aww, shit," he cursed and hurriedly answered the call. "Lauren, I'm so sorry."

"I've already experienced some affronts, but you simply getting up and leaving me high and dry without a word and me to pay the bill on top of that, that's really the summit of what I've ever seen," Lauren told him furiously.

"I know, Lauren, it's unforgivable. I've been called away on a family emergency. My brother…"

"I'm not interested in your lame excuses, Mr Eppes. I just called to tell you that I don't ever want to hear from you again. I sent you a check for the bill though and expect repayment. Bye."

The line went dead. Don stared at it for a moment, then put the phone away with a sigh. Another chance ruined. Then again, who knew if anything would have come out of it anyway? He sure as hell didn't regret having gone to Charlie's help. He had needed it. And if she wasn't even willing to listen why he had left as he had… her loss.

He resumed the pacing. Damn, what was taking them so long? Charlie had been seriously hurt but it hadn't looked as if it was life threatening, hadn't it? Okay, Charlie had passed out for good in the ambulance, scaring at least five years out of his big brother, but he had just passed out, hadn't he? It wasn't as if his heart had stopped beating or that he had a seizure or something like that. But what if he had slipped into a coma? Or perhaps, one of the broken ribs had punctured a lung and he had collapsed once they've rolled him out of Don's sight. And internal bleeding, with the beating he had suffered, was an all too real possibility as well. Damn it! He needed to know how his little brother was doing!

"Don?"

His head snapped around to see David standing in the doorway to the waiting room, looking apprehensive and concerned. Right. He had called the team once he'd been ushered towards the waiting room. The police had arrived a minute before the ambulance and while the agent in him had briefly tried to argue for him to stay back to brief them and make sure they didn't miss anything, the brother in him had overruled the agent completely, his need to remain with Charlie too great. So he had called in his team, sending them over to CalSci.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be over at CalSci?" Don asked, frowning, displeased.

David stepped inside. "Megan's taking care of CalSci. I'm here to take your statement. How's Charlie?" he asked and Don could see that he was genuinely concerned. Then again, he wasn't too surprised at that. Charlie wasn't just friends with the members of Don's team - he was one of the team.

Taking a deep breath, Don shook his head. "Don't know. They haven't told me anything yet."

David looked disappointed for a moment, then tried a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'm sure he's fine. That brother of yours is tougher than anyone would give it to him."

Yeah, he was. But David hadn't been called by Charlie to come help him get up. He hadn't seen him, heard how tired he had been and how hard it had been for him to talk, to remain making sense. It wasn't _his_ little brother that was treated in an ER room at the very moment. But Don just nodded.

David pointed over to one of the couches. "Why don't we take a seat and you'll tell me everything you know?"

Yeah, why not? It would beat imagining the worst case scenarios any time. And the sooner they could start looking for the assholes being responsible for bringing Charlie into that ER room in the first place, the better. He wanted them. He wanted them bad.

Reluctantly, he sat down, only to jump up immediately again. He simply was too restless to sit still. But he did start to tell David the night's events, starting with getting Charlie's call. He had just reached the point where Charlie had told him that it had been three or four assailants when his phone vibrated against his hip again.

Checking the display again, he closed his eyes and grimaced. Shit. He had hoped to delay this call until he knew more on Charlie's condition. With a sigh, he turned away from David and answered the call.

"Dad."

"Donnie, I know it's late," his father started, relief audible in his voice. "But could you swing by the campus and see that your brother finally calls it a day? He had promised to be home two hours ago but he's still not home. Seeing he is pulling a late night working for you once again, maybe you can convince him that it's not that important to go without sleep and food once again."

Charlie had been working on Don's case? What was he thinking? Of course Charlie had. Charlie always went out of his way to get whatever equation Don asked him for done. No matter what else he had to do with his considerable work load. He shook his head, pushing that thought away. Later. He'd think about it later. When Charlie was okay again. Maybe he'd go for a hike with him. Or make a little sailing turn, his treat. But first Charlie had to get better again. And he needed to tell their father.

Right.

"Dad, don't worry, okay?"

"Worry?" Don could literally hear the frown in his father's voice. "Why should I worry?"

Shit, he was not doing a good job at this. "Dad, Charlie…" Oh, what the hell. "Charlie was attacked tonight, Dad. Some guys ganged up on him and gave him a pretty bad beating. He called me and I went to pick him up. We're at the hospital now and he's being checked out by the doctors as we speak. But he's going to be fine, Dad."

He'd better be, Don thought darkly.

There was a long pause of silence, so long that Don actually got worried that his father may have suffered a heart attack. "Dad?"

"Which hospital?"

Oh. "Dad, you don't have to…"

"Don – which hospital?" his father interrupted him.

Knowing that tone, Don hung his head. "Ceaders, Dad."

"I'm on my way," his dad told him shortly.

Don sighed. "At least let me call someone to give you a ride, Dad, you shouldn't drive…"

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," his father interrupted him once again and already, the dial tone sounded into Don's ear.

Sighing deeply again, Don put away his phone and turned back towards David, making a face. "Dad will be here in twenty minutes," he murmured, unhappy.

Quickly, David bowed his head so his boss wouldn't see his smile.

* * *

By the time Alan arrived, a doctor at last had come out to give Don a summary of Charlie's condition. Don had hoped to hear better news, but Charlie's condition was stable and he would be fine and that was the most important thing.

At least that was what Don kept telling himself. As well as the doctor and David.

Still... It wasn't okay. Charlie should never have gotten into this condition in the first place! And if they'd have beaten him for just a bit longer or even more harder...

"Donnie!"

Relieved at the interruption of his dark thoughts, Don turned around to see his father hurrying towards him. "Dad."

"How is he?" Alan wanted to know, a bit breathless, his eyes betraying his worry and fear.

"He's going to be fine, Dad," Don reassured him, laying a hand on his father's shoulder - as much to draw comfort for him as well as to comfort his father. "This is Dr Sanchez. He has just assured me of that himself, right? Doctor, this is my father, Alan Eppes."

"Mr Eppes," Dr Sanchez nodded. "As I was just telling your son, Charlie's doing pretty good, under the conditions. It will take a while until all is healed, and I won't lie, it will be hurtful for him, but we expect a full recovery."

Don could see that his father wanted more details, but as he thought it better that Alan didn't get to hear the long list of injuries Don had just been told, he quickly asked the question he knew would distract his father from his questions. At least for the moment. "Can we go see him now?"

Besides, that was what he himself really needed: to see for himself that Charlie was still alive and going to be okay. As expected, Alan looked back at the doctor eagerly as well.

"We're almost finished with patching him up. As soon as he's ready, we'll move him into ICU." Seeing the alarm in the Eppes' eyes, Dr Sanchez hurried to continue. "Just for a safety measure. We'd like to keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours, just to be sure that there won't be any aneurysm or swelling of the brain. It's standard procedure for a type 2 concussion, not to mention that we want to keep a close eye on the bruised liver and punctured lung."

Don had already known about the more serious damages that had been done to Charlie. His father not though and he paled considerably. Quickly, Don stepped closer to him so he could support him should his father suddenly feel week and squeezed Alan's shoulder. "He's going to be fine, Dad," he murmured.

Sanchez must have heard him as well, because he nodded. "Like said, it's just precaution. As soon as he's settled, you can visit him. But just five minutes and only one at a time."

Alan and Don both grimaced at that. That was not what they wanted to hear.

"Can we talk to him?" asked David and Don glanced at him, momentarily having forgotten that he was there as well. His question though brought him straight back to reality. He knew David had to ask. In fact, he should have been the first to ask this very question. It was important to talk to Charlie, the sooner the better.

He knew all that.

And none of it mattered. His little brother was badly hurt and all he needed now was rest, not being interrogated!

But the agent in him was still enough in charge to let him keep his mouth shut, waiting tensely for the doctor's decision. Were it anyone but Charlie in there, he would insist on talking to him as well, he kept repeating himself. They needed to hear if Charlie could tell them anything more about his attackers than what little he had been able to tell Don already. And he trusted David. He knew David would be gentle with him and not distressing Charlie any further. Still... It was Charlie in there and the big brother in him was strongly against letting anyone but himself, his father and the necessary medical personal near him again until he was feeling better.

His father glared at David as well, but Doctor Sanchez' answer apprehended him from any comments he may have made. "I fear that won't be possible, Agent Sinclair. Only immediate relatives are allowed into ICU. Besides, I doubt Charlie would be able to answer your questions anyway. We have him heavily sedated and if he wakes up at all, I doubt that he can give lucid answers. You'll have to wait until he's out of ICU."

David glanced at the Eppes men and just nodded. Normally, Don would have a word to say about him giving up so easily. Once again though, he stayed silent. He wasn't David's boss at the moment after all. Instead, he was the victim's brother.

A role he didn't like at all. Not only because it meant that Charlie was hurt - but he didn't like to feel this helpless. He didn't know how ordinary people did this. He was FBI, even if no one was going to let him do any investigation, interrogation or even an arrest, he would still be privy to the investigation and was sure that his team would tell him when they were going to bust these bastards that had done this to Charlie. And he was pretty sure that they were going to look away when he had to say a word or two to Charlie's attackers, as long as he didn't lose it. An ordinary had nothing of that, could only sit by the loved one's side and hope that the police would be able to deliver justice to those responsible. He had it way better than them, thank God. And still he couldn't help but feel helpless. He hadn't been able to help Charlie much and now he couldn't do much to find the bastards responsible.

"I have to return to my patient now, but like said, it shouldn't take that long anymore," Dr Sanchez spoke again. "I'll send a nurse for you, once Charlie's ready."

"Thank you, Doctor," Alan said with much relief and gratitude.

"Come on, Dad," Don said and led his father over to where he and David had waited for news not that long before. He was still too restless to sit still, but he wanted his father to sit and so forced himself to sit tight, David following them. He had expected to be bombarded with questions now, but surprisingly, his father had nothing to ask. At least not for now.

Don was glad about it. He had no real answers and nor was he in the mood to list all of Charlie's injuries either.

In silence, they waited for someone to come get them.

It didn't take long. Approximately twenty minutes later, the nurse finally came to bring one of them to Charlie. "Go on ahead, Dad," Don just said, knowing that his father needed to see Charlie the most. Besides, he'd have his turn in a few moments anyway. He could wait that long.

Alan disappeared with the nurse after a short squeeze of Don's shoulder and once again, silence fell on the ones left waiting. When he came back, Don frowned at the slow steps of his father and the suddenly pale complexion of him, looking years older than he actually was. Even more disturbed him the fact that Alan avoided to look at him though. First making sure that his father was settled in his chair and that David would stay with him, Don too finally followed the nurse that would bring him to his brother.

His father's reaction should have warned him. His years as an agent should have prepared him. Heaven knew that he had seen much worse during his time with the FBI.

But it hadn't. And seeing his little brother stretched out in the ICU hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, pale as a ghost but to the bruises left on his skin and looking just so - broken - he was taught better: Yes, he had seen worse inflected on human beings, children even. But seeing Charlie like this was still worse than anything he had ever seen in his job.

Swallowing, he gritted his teeth and stepped to the bed, tentatively taking Charlie's hand into his, squeezing gently. "Hey, Buddy."

No answer, just the steady beeping of the monitors surrounding Charlie. Grinding his teeth even more together, so much that his jaw actually started to hurt, Don's eyes slid over the skinny figure of his brother laying in front of him while Dr Sanchez' words echoed in his mind. Heavy concussion type 2, danger of brain swelling, a punctured lung by one of the three broken ribs, a bruised liver, two more rips badly bruised, a sprained fibula and of course, a body full of bruises.

His free hand gripped the bed rest tightly, his knuckles standing out white.

Then there were all the ifs: If the beating had continued for longer, if there had been only one attacker more, if Don hadn't gotten to Charlie so fast, calling for the ambulance, if they had kicked a bit higher here or a bit more to the right there, if they had stolen his cell phone along with his wallet, if Charlie hadn't regained consciousness as fast as he had, if he hadn't curled up to protect his vital parts... if, if, if and all of those ifs leading to the most probable loss of his baby brother.

He felt bile rising up, but swallowed it down.

A soft knock from the nurse against the door reminded him that his time was up.

Already? He felt like he had just come in. Then again, five minutes weren't long.

Holding up a finger, he nodded and leaned down, smoothing away some of Charlie's curls, much like back in the corridor in front of Charlie's office. "You get better fast, you hear me, Charlie? Dad's really worried, you know.." He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I promise you, Charlie, we'll get these bastards. And they will pay for what they did to you. I swear this to you, Charlie."

Again a knock, stronger this time.

"I've got to go now, Buddy. But Dad and I, we're just outside. We'll be back as soon as we can. Hang tight, okay?" Don whispered and with a sigh, straightened up again, reluctantly letting go of his brother's hand. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay here and make sure that Charlie knew that he was there, that no one would be able to harm him again. He just wanted to be with Charlie, feel his nearness.

Taking a deep breath, Don fought his emotions down for the umpteenth time this night, schooled his features into his well trained unmoved FBI-mask and with a last, lingering glance at his brother, he turned to leave the room quietly.

His father looked up at him, anger but mostly confusion written all over his face. "Who would do anything like that to Charlie?" he whispered, aghast.

Slowly, Don shook his head. "I don't know, Dad. But I intend to find out." His gaze wandered to David, still being there, and his eyes hardened with cold rage. With a short movement of his head he ordered him to follow him and led him into the almost empty hallway.

"Don, you know we're doing everything we can to find Charlie's attackers," David told him the second he faced him.

Don gave a tight nod. "I know. You all know what to do. I expect a report every twelve hours plus copies of all reports and statements. I'll stay the night and probably most of tomorrow as well, if Merrick's all right with that." He hesitated a moment. "Megan should stay on the Paxton case though. Charlie's been working on it as well, perhaps they didn't want him to finish his work, so you should check into that. I think he finished the equation, at least that was what I understood from his words. I haven't checked for it, so you'll need to do that, if just to nail Paxton. Amita and Larry helped him I think, should you need help understanding it. I want you to work primarily on Charlie's attack though."

Not even dreaming of protesting, David nodded.

Don's eyes darkened. "The second you get a lead on the bastards, you call me."

This time, David squirmed. "Don..."

"I promise I won't kill anybody if I don't have to," Don interrupted him, his voice low and calm. A shiver ran over David's back. "But I want to be in in the bust. I owe those bastard low lives a few words, David." His eyes shone with a deep burning fire. "No one gets away with doing that to my little brother," he stated icily.

David took one look at Don's eyes and nodded. "I'll call," he promised. He wasn't suicidal and contradicting Don now would just be that. Suicidal. Besides - Don really deserved to have a go at Charlie's attackers. And he and Megan and Colby would make sure he wouldn't get in trouble over it and keep an eye on it.

Almost, he felt sorry for the culprits.

Almost.

If they hadn't hurt one of their team. And Don was right: no one got away with that.

So after Don had his turn, he was sure the team too would have a few words to say to the guys beating up their very own math consultant.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: Once again, many thanks for the great reviews! I hope you liked the third installment. And I hope I got it more or less right: the only medical experience I have is watching medical series like House and reading a bit on the internet. Three more parts to go!)_


	4. Questions

**Questions**

"What about the students? Anyone holding a grudge against you? For a bad grade, a turned down paper? Did you refuse anyone a recommendation letter or tuition?"

Charlie rolled his eyes and immediately regretted it. Damn it, that had hurt. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw Don moving closer, a frown on his face. "I'm fine," Charlie sighed, giving his brother a glance to back him off, then he turned back to Megan, patiently waiting for his response. "And no, none of my students would do something like this."

"I'm sure you don't want to believe this of one of your own student, but it's still a possibility, Charlie," David chimed in, serious. "There sure are some who aren't as happy about you as others?"

Charlie caught himself just in time before he rolled his eyes again. "Listen, guys, seriously: I'm sure none of my students had been part of this. Okay, some get mad, but that mostly shows by some bad jokes played to me or enhanced disturbances of my class. Beating me half to death is not up their lane."

Don scowled, but remained silent. Charlie knew he wasn't allowed to interfere, his condition to remain in the room while his team questioned Charlie about the attack. To be honest, Charlie almost wished that he'd interfere and got sent out. As much as he loved his big brother and appreciated his concern - it was getting on Charlie's nerve. Since Charlie had woken up for good sometime late this morning, Don had been at his bedside, actually having been the first thing he had seen upon waking up, shortly followed by the relieved face of his father. Not that he minded. Actually, Charlie had been glad to see Don, immediately knowing that he was safe. He might be in the hospital, but he was safe. He always was safe when in Don's presence. And once bits of the last night had come back, he was even more relieved and thankful to know that his big brother was there. No one would get to hurt him on Don's watch, he knew that with absolute sincerity.

But during the rest of the day he had been moved from ICU to a private room, had slept a lot more, heavily kept on pain medication and so he had time to settle down a bit. Enough to get tired of Don's body constantly humming with anger and worry. His big brother hadn't said much the whole day, let alone had made a joke or two to lighten things up. That wasn't like Don. Don usually dealt with shit like this by relieving the stress with joking around, watching a game, drinking a beer, something like that. But he had refused to watch a game, beer wasn't offered in the hospital canteen and he had been brooding and scowling at his own thoughts constantly. Charlie thought even his father had been slightly unnerved by Don's behavior because he and Don had had an astonishing small battle with their father to convince him to go home, get some rest, prepare the house for Charlie's return in a few days and to only come back in the morning with some of Charlie's things. Really hardly any convincing at all. Very strange. So Charlie concluded that this anomaly concluded to Don's dark mood.

'Lucky dad,' Charlie thought with resignation.

"Okay, if not one of your students, what about one of your colleagues? Stepped on anyone toes lately? Did you get someone fired?" Megan wanted to know next.

With a frown, Charlie regarded Megan with exasperation. "Really, Megan, this is CalSci. We're all scientists with high doctorates. Like Larry. Like me. I don't say we don't have our issues or perhaps even envy, but we deal with grudges on a much higher and intelligent level than to refer to bodily harm," he pointed out, leaving out the fact that most professors wouldn't physically be able to beat Charlie up as he had been.

"You mean like stink bombs," Colby chuckled from where he leant against the wall.

Charlie mustered up a glare for him. "That wasn't a stink bomb. It was a complicated chemical process used to distract me from concentrating on the poker tournament."

"A stink bomb," Colby grinned.

"Granger."

Don's low hiss made Colby lose the grin instantly. He even held up his hands. "Just saying," he muttered. Don's glare stayed a moment longer on his agent before he turned his attention back to Charlie.

"What I'm trying to say is that no, I can't imagine one of my colleagues having anything to do with what happened last night," Charlie said quietly. His mind came up with a name though anyway, but he shook his head. No. If it just had been one person coming after him, maybe, but not like it had happened. It didn't correlate to what he knew of the other professor.

"Charlie?" Megan asked, having seen the slight hesitation.

"It's nothing," Charlie was quick to assure her. He had no proof in his hands, not yet and until then he couldn't go and denounce this man's reputation - no matter how much he itched to just do that.

"Charlie," Don growled, now glaring at him.

"Really, it's nothing," Charlie tried to assure his brother but it was too late.

Pushing away from the window, Don stalked over to his bed. "Talk, Charlie. We need to know everything, no matter how improbable you deem it is. Who do you have in mind?"

"And you know that all you say here is confidential," Megan too nodded, using a much gentler tone.

Charlie sighed, knowing better than to even try to stall some more. Besides, it wasn't worth the strength it would cost him, especially as that strength was quickly leaving him. "All right, all right, I'm telling it. But please, you really need to keep this under the wrap," he did insist though, looking at Megan and Don. "I suspect a professor at CalSci of sexual harassment of his students. I - noticed a few things. And I may have hinted to that professor that I'm keeping an eye on him. But I've also talked to Agent Romero about it and he's already looking into the guy. So far we have no proofs, so there's little we can do at the moment. That's why I've talked to him, so he'll perhaps think twice before harassing another student. I'm also trying to get one of the victims to denounce him, but - it's difficult to get through to the kid. But I'm sure it's not that guy behind all this. If it just has been one attacking me, maybe, and that's a big maybe, but like this? No."

There was a momentarily silence and Charlie looked up to see four pairs of eyes staring at him. "What?"

Megan shook her head, smiling. "Nothing. Name?"

Charlie hesitated again but feeling Don's glare, he gave the name.

David noted it. "We're looking with Romero what he has on the guy."

Charlie and Don both nodded.

"So what about your consulting jobs? Could this attack result from one of them?" Megan persisted her search for possible culprits.

Averting his eyes, Charlie wished he weren't so drugged up. His mind was still a bit fuzzy and the drugs didn't help to clear his head. But the pain he had suffered when his medication had worn off had quickly convinced him to stay on them, at least for a while longer. On the other hand, the buzz from the last dose was wearing off, fast, and he grew more tired by the second. Well, he just had to concentrate on not talking about specific jobs. "I don't think so," he finally simply said.

Megan sighed. "Charlie, you really need to cooperate with us on this or we'll never find theses guys."

Charlie looked back at her. "I have told you all I know. Truth is, I don't have the slightest idea who attacked me last night, nor can I imagine who or what is behind this." He fell silent, trying to remember the terrible long minutes of cowering on the floor while kicks and blows rained down on him. "They came from behind and the first few blows made my head spin. I curled up, protected my head as good as I could so I didn't even get a glimpse of their faces. Hell, I don't even know if they wore masks or not! Not to mention that what happened exactly is not that clear, my memories somewhat jumbled. All I know is that suddenly, there were some people beating me up, then losing consciousness, then some bits and pieces of calling Don and him getting there. I just can't tell you more. I don't _know_ more!" Charlie pushed out, air suddenly eluding him.

"Easy, Buddy," Don soothed, laying a hand onto his shoulder and squeezing it gently. Charlie relaxed and air started to fill his lungs again. Tired, he closed his eyes, his head sinking back onto the cushion. He was exhausted and frankly said, he didn't want to answer more questions and he knew this was the fastest way to get some peace again.

"That's it. No more questions," Don sure ordered instantly, a growl just swinging beneath his words. Charlie turned his head to peek at his brother. Yep, he was glaring again. Or still glaring. Charlie wasn't sure anymore.

Getting the warning clear and loud, Megan nodded and stood up while David closed his notebook. "Thanks, Charlie. I'm glad you're going to be okay soon again," Megan said.

Turning his head, Charlie fully opened his eyes again, though it was a small fight. "'s okay. Sorry that I couldn't be of more use," he said, grimacing.

Megan's smile was bright. "Hey, don't worry. You gave us enough. Just get well again fast."

Charlie nodded and his eyes slowly closed again under the heaviness of the lids. Then though he forced them open again. "Hey, my data on Paxton? Did you get it? I think I've cracked it. Wanted to drop it by the FBI first thing in the morning."

It was Colby who answered, patting Charlie's leg. "Yeah, we've got it. Went to bust Paxton myself this morning. Guy sung like a canary once we confronted him with your findings. You did it again, WhizKid."

"Good," Charlie mumbled and finally lost the battle to stay awake, drifting off to a drug induced heavy sleep.

Don rearranged Charlie's blanket a bit, then turned back to his team, signaling them to follow him outside. The door closing softly behind them, he stayed there, daring anyone to get past him to his brother. Which reminded him... "Until further notice, I want someone on this door twenty-four/seven," he told Megan grimly.

"I already asked for a guard," Megan nodded, having anticipated this. "He should be here within the next two hours. He'll report in to you."

Don nodded. "What about Paxton? Did he have something to do with this attack on Charlie?"

Colby shook his head. "Doesn't look like. When we confronted him with it, he looked as he had no idea what we were talking about. Or whom for that matter. I could be wrong and we're still looking into it, but I don't think he was responsible for this," he answered, nodding at Charlie's door.

Don's hand fisted. Part of him was relieved that the attack probably wasn't related to the latest job he had asked Charlie's help for. The bigger part of him was frustrated that they still had no clue as to whom was responsible for beating up and almost killing Charlie. "Anything from Evidence?"

Megan shook her head. "No. Blood was confirmed to be Charlie's, but we expected that. Charlie didn't fight back, so we have no DNA or other evidence to work with either. They dusted the corridor, getting several dozens prints, some of them probably weeks old." She sighed, knowing Don wouldn't like what she had to say. Hell, she didn't like it herself. Still, she felt like it needed to be said. "I'm sorry, Don. I wish we could give you something but - without Charlie able to point us even into a direction, I don't think we will get these guys. Not if someone doesn't rat them out or at least one of them gets a bad conscience and confesses."

Don eyes found hers and held them for a long minute. "That is unacceptable," he finally just said, turned, and headed back into his brother's room.

David too sighed. "Well, that went well."

Megan shrugged. "I think Don's still too much in shock over what happened. In time he'll see reason." At least she hoped so. "In the meantime, we better make sure we haven't missed something or we can kiss our badges good-bye. Colby, you go talk with Romero, see what he has on that perp. I agree with Charlie, it's unlikely that that professor is behind this, it doesn't fit such a profile, but one never knows. If you see it fit, you can also have a word with Romero." She gave Colby a stern look. "But keep it light. We don't want that guy suing Charlie for ruining his reputation. Just ask him if he has noticed anything unusual or if he might have an idea who would want to hurt Charlie like that. Actually, we still need to question his co-workers and students, see if they noticed something, perhaps seen someone lurking around. Or if they know anyone with a grudge against Charlie. In that sense, we'll have to interview Amita and Larry as well. And I guess Alan too. I'll take care of those three, then we can move on to the rest of the stuff tomorrow." She thought for a moment. "David, get in touch with LAPD. See if this could be gang-related, Don thought it might be possible and I agree. Also see if there were other incidents like this in the past six months, concentrate first on CalSci and other universities. Perhaps this isn't a single case."

Both David and Colby nodded and left to go fulfill their tasks. Megan looked after them, casted a last long look to the closed hospital door and then set out to leave herself.

Truth was Don wasn't the only one disturbed by this brutal attack on Charlie, especially as it just didn't make any sense. They all wanted these guys found and punished for hurting Charlie like this and it was frustrating to not have much hope to achieve just that. Charlie was part of the team, part of the family - and most of all, he was their friend. Megan wasn't sure how she could live with the fact that Charlie's attackers may just walk away unscathed - she could only imagine what such a thing would mean for Don and most of all Charlie.

* * *

Sitting in the darkness of Charlie's hospital room, Don stared at the quiet figure of his little brother, his thoughts at a very dark place, a place he only visited after some of the worst of his cases. And apparently also when his little brother got hurt. Part of him whished he could sleep. After all, it's been well over thirty-six hours that Don had slept, not managing even a short nap during the long night and day of waiting to get news, of waiting for Charlie to wake up or then to see how he was doing. Agent Zeiler was standing in front of the door, having reported in about two hours ago, so he was good to rest a bit. But it just wasn't enough for him. All he knew was that whoever had done this to Charlie was still out there and might come back to finish the job. Also, a great part of him was also wary to go to sleep, sure that only terrible nightmares were awaiting him there, all the many ifs that plagued Don coming to reality in his dreams.

He closed his eyes and listened to Charlie's still somewhat labored breathing. Thankfully, his punctured lung hadn't collapsed, but the puncture coupled with the broken ribs wasn't making breathing especially easy for his brother.

God, they had been so lucky.

Yeah, Charlie was still hurt badly, but he was out of the woods. The CAT-scans had shown that there was no swelling of the brain and his other's injuries, while undoubtedly being painful, would all heal in time.

How easy it could have been different. Charlie could well be dead now or having a serious, life-altering injury. Don was pretty sure that Charlie wouldn't have been able to deal with possible brain damage.

And he in turn wasn't sure if he could have gone on without Charlie.

This whole incident and the time since then - Don had never lived through anything like that. He had thought it had been bad when his mother had been here, treated for cancer and later to die here. But it had been different. As bad as it had been - you knew what was going on and later, it was also clear that his mother would die. Hell, death had been a relief for her, Don knew that, as hard as that was to accept for the ones who loved her. But it made it easier to see her die and later, to deal with her loss. That it was a relief for her, that her long suffering was finally coming to an end. But also that in the end, she had still been a parent, supposed to die one day. Perhaps not as early as she had to go, but Don and Charlie had been grown ups at least, having had the most important years with her. Of course Don still missed her, he probably always would - but he had come to peace with her death, already some years ago and he thought, though it had taken Charlie longer, he too had finally learned to accept her death.

He opened his eyes again, letting his eyes adjust until they could make out Charlie on the bed again in the dim light coming in through the window.

This attack on Charlie - it had come totally out of the blue, catching Don completely by surprise. He had thought he was prepared for this possibility. Charlie was at a certain risk with doing all these consultants jobs, especially the ones for him. So yeah, he had known that there was a considerable danger to him. But he had been wrong. Nothing had ever prepared him to get that call from Charlie or to find him beaten half to death and barely conscious.

Teaching Don the hard lesson that the worst that could happen to him was losing his little brother, no matter what a pain in the ass he sometimes could be. No matter how stubborn and egg headed Charlie was most of the time. No matter all their differences, their disputes, their often different opinions - Charlie was his little brother and Don loved him, unconditionally. And to lose him...

It was unthinkable. It was unacceptable.

When had Charlie become so important to him? Did it matter?

No. Not really. But he would have to find a way to deal with those new revelations. Even if this time it hadn't been related to the current job, it could as well have been. To be exact, this attack could still result from Charlie's work for Don. In the future, Don promised himself, he'd be more careful with Charlie. He knew it was futile to refuse him consulting for him, he had already tried that once to no avail, but he certainly could make sure that his brother's involvement was kept under a tighter lid. And he and Charlie would have to have a serious talk about his general security, once he was better. The house could use a better alarm system and CalSci should really upgrade their security. Perhaps, they could also wire Charlie's office. And if Charlie wanted, Don would help him get some lessons of self-defense. Hell, if Charlie wanted, Don would even help him get a license to carry concealed. Everything to keep him safe.

Though he doubted Charlie would want all that. He wasn't much into guns or violence - and to not fight back saved more lives than to fight back, Don knew that. Still. With his job, and not to forget Don's, Charlie risked to encounter more than your usual mugger. A little protection couldn't hurt.

Of course, the main problem with Charlie's safety was his way too trusting and gentle heart. There wasn't much that could be done about that though. And Don didn't really want Charlie to lose that anyway. It was part of what made Charlie so special. Still - a little bit more guard from Charlie couldn't hurt.

Yeah, they definitely needed to talk about all this.

And other things, Don thought with a frown, remembering that guy Charlie suspected of molesting his students. Why had he never mentioned that to Don? Why had he gone to Romero with this and not to him? Charlie _should_ have come to him, especially before doing anything so stupid as confront a molester like he had.

A moan came from Charlie's bed and Don was up in a flash, hurrying over. Dr Sanchez had assured them that Charlie wasn't at risk anymore when they had him transferred from ICU to the private room. Had he been wrong? Was Charlie having a set-back? Had they overseen something?

But when he came to Charlie's bed and had flipped back on the light he could see that the moan probably wasn't caused by physical pain. His brother had a nightmare.

"No... please not..." Charlie pleaded, throwing his head around as the dream made him more and more agitated.

Don hadn't to think long whether to wake him or not. If he trashed around like this he would only hurt himself more. Besides, he couldn't let Charlie be caught in that nightmare anyway. So he gripped his shoulders and held him still as gentle as he could, all the time talking soothingly to him. "Shhh, Charlie, wake up. It's a nightmare. I'm here. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe."

It took him a few minutes, but eventually, Charlie's body relaxed and his breathing regulated itself to a more normal level. And finally, he opened his eyes, his dark eyes still wide though. "Donnie?" he asked, shaken. That must have been one bitch of a nightmare. Considering latest events that was hardly a surprise of course. Actually, Don should have expected this. Charlie had always been liable to have nightmares.

Nodding, Don allowed himself to relax as well a bit and squeezed Charlie's shoulder. "Yeah. You had a nightmare, Buddy."

His breathing still a bit harsh, Charlie just nodded and looked away.

Don regarded him for a long moment. "Wanna talk about it?"

Still not talking, Charlie just shook his head.

Don sighed. "It might help, Charlie."

Finally, a glance back to him. "Like you talk about your nightmares."

Clenching his jaw, Don silently counted to three. "That's not the same."

Again, Charlie returned to be silent.

Again counting mentally to three, Don tried it anyway. "Was it about the attack?"

Charlie didn't answer, but he visibly tensed. "Please, Charlie. You lived through a terrible ordeal. Anyone would have nightmares about it. There's nothing to be ashamed of about that," Don said quietly.

Slowly, Charlie looked back at him, his eyes still haunted. Don tried a reassuring smile. "I know I'll have some nightmares about this night, Buddy." He hesitated for a moment. "So why don't we help each other by talking about it?" he offered, reluctantly. Seeing that his brother still was hesitant, he took a deep breath and gave him something. "I tell you, Charlie, getting that call from you, not knowing how badly you've been hurt... And then turning the corner and finding you on the floor like this, barely conscious..." He swallowed and let some of the fear and panic he had felt then enter his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered, reaching for Don's hand to give it a short but firm squeeze.

Don shook his head. "Don't be. It's not your fault." He offered Charlie a lopsided smile. "Just don't you ever do that to me again."

He was rewarded by a weak smile. "Oh believe me, I don't plan to." Charlie's eyes slid away again. "I thought I was back in that corridor. That it hadn't stopped. That it wasn't over. That they were still - beating me. I... I tried to fight back. I tried to call for help." He gulped. "It just got worse," he finished in a low voice.

Moving his hand to the back of Charlie's neck, Don forced him to look back at him. "Listen to me, Charlie: you did good. They attacked you from behind, without warning. They were four on one. You had no chance. You never had a chance. Instead, you did everything you could to protect yourself and stay alive and that was just the right thing to do," he told him intently, once he was sure he had Charlie's attention. "They would have killed you if you had fought them, Charlie, I'm sure of that. They nearly did anyway. And once it was over, you did good as well: you stayed awake and you called me. There's nothing more you could have done, Charlie."

Charlie was quiet for a long time. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Don assured him with absolute sincerity.

For a long while the brothers just remained like that, close, slightly touching, drawing comfort from each other - relaxing and deep fears slowly dissipating.

"I really don't know why this happened, Don," Charlie finally broke the silence, talking softly. "I haven't received any threats. I'm not working on too sensitive cases at the moment that could prompt such a volatile interference, other than your case on Paxton that is and even there I don't think it likely. I don't have any enemies that I know of - competitors, yeah, but no one who would really wish that much harm on me." His eyes bored into Don's. "I have no idea why I was attacked like this. I mean, in the end I'm just a mathematician, a professor. Most people don't realize the possible threat I can pose with my knowledge to someone, especially when I do some consulting - or they underestimate it. Plus, someone who chooses to attack me like this is unlikely to do this because something I have or may have done with my math. It just doesn't make sense."

Don patted Charlie's knee. "Those things seldom do. But we'll find out why, Charlie. And they will pay for what they have done," he promised once again, with more confidence that he actually felt. Megan's words hadn't fallen on deaf ears. Just on unwilling ones.

As the agent he was he knew that with what they had, it was unlikely to get any satisfying answers. But they had to find these guys.

If only for his own peace of mind. Because as long as they were still out there, he didn't think he could ever relax again, let alone Charlie.

* * *

"I hear you're getting released today?"

Charlie looked up and smiled, careful of the bruises on his jaw and upper right cheek though. "Yeah, finally. I'd have left days ago if not for Dad threatening to keep me locked out of my own house."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Megan chuckled, remembering David recalling the conversation he had overheard between the Eppes men three days ago during a visit. "Where's Don?"

"If you mean the body-snatcher that walks around disguised as what used to be my brother, he's getting the car," Charlie answered with a dark glare outside.

Megan came further into the room, closing the door. "So I take it his mood hasn't improved?" she asked with a sigh.

They had been unable to find any leads in Charlie's attack. Paxton and the molesting professor had checked out with an alibi for that night, no one had seen anything, no one could imagine who on Earth could have wanted to hurt Charlie like that. Basically, they were at a dead end with no prospect of getting anywhere anytime soon if at all. Don didn't take that well. He wanted justice for his brother, revenge, and them unable to find Charlie's assailants left him with no outlet for his rage, resulting in leaving him in a bad mood and more short tempered with each passing day. Since the attack five days ago, he hadn't been much to the office - much to everyone's relief - spending most of his time close to Charlie, in full protective mode. She could see how that might even got on the nerves of his little brother, despite the way Charlie worships Don.

"I have never seen him like that," Charlie said with a shake of his head. "I mean, sure, I've seen him in a bad mood. And after bad cases. Even already after he got a scare that hit too close to home for him. But this... This is not comparable."

"That's just it, Charlie," Megan told him softly. "It's not comparable. You were hurt for one, with nothing Don could have done to prevent it, see it coming or even suspect it for second and third, it looks like he now can't even get justice for what has been done to you, the guys beating his little brother half to death going free, never being caught, let alone punished."

"If one were to be angry about all that it should rather be me and not Don," Charlie argued - but deep down he knew that Megan was right. All these factors must have been pure torture for his big brother. Still...

"Of course. But you know your brother: by attacking you, they've attacked Don as well. Just give him time. I'm sure he'll calm down once the worst of the shock and scare has passed," Megan reassured him. "Or if we find your assailants after all. That of course would be the best thing." She eyed him carefully. "You've always been good at defying the odds, Charlie. Don't you have an idea how we could find these guys after all?"

Charlie averted his eyes.

Something that didn't go past Megan. "Charlie?" Not receiving an answer, Megan moved over to stand in front of him, her eyes searching him. "Do you know who attacked you?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

Charlie let out a deep sigh. "No."

Megan scrutinized him. "But you have an idea," she stated with sudden revelation.

Glancing back to the door, Charlie sighed again, not sure if he should share his wild theories at all, least alone with the FBI. But if it wasn't an hallucination... "Maybe," he finally relented.

Megan tried hard to stay calm and reasonable and not throttle Charlie. But really, here they were, working their ass off to get maybe at least a snitch that could lead them to something, or even better, someone, with Don breathing down their neck, nearly taking their head off each time they had to tell him that they had no news on Charlie's attack and all the time, Charlie had known something? She took a deep breath. "Okay... And who would that be?"

Charlie shook his head and avoided looking at her. "Look, I really don't have a name or even a face. I'm not even sure that I really have something at all and that it's not just an imagination, born out of the desire to find an explanation as to why this happened to me because I really, really don't like to not know the cause of an action. Every action has a cause, it's just hidden sometimes and with me being beaten up like this being the result of the action I just need to know the cause that led to this result."

Calming down considerable, Megan reached for Charlie's hand to squeeze it. "It's perfectly understandable that you want an explanation. We all do. Why don't you just tell me what you figured out, based on what factors, and let me see if it's a legit suspicion and worth looking it up?" she asked, instinctively trying to word this in a way that may appeal more to Charlie than a simple 'just tell me everything'. In her experience, taking the easy way was not the best way with Charlie.

Charlie thought over her words and when he finally made eye contact, she knew she had him.

"I think you should maybe look if someone on or around campus is part of the National Alliance," Charlie told her softly.

Megan blinked and needed a moment to process this. "Why do you think this?" she finally wanted to know, frowning deeply.

Uncomfortable, Charlie shifted and looked away again, not really wanting to look at anyone. "I - I have these dreams about the attack, mostly nightmares of course, but..." He shook his head. "In these dreams, the men beating me up, they curse me and call me - names. About me being Jewish," he all but whispered, not really wanting to repeat the ugly names and curses from his dreams out loud, let alone to anyone. "I don't know. Maybe this is just what is seems to be, a nightmare, getting worse and more detailed with each more dream. But I can't help but think that maybe..."

"That your subconscious remembers this from the night of the attack and now lets you know about it through your dreams?" Megan concluded gently.

Charlie just nodded. He hated not knowing why he had been attacked like this. But he wasn't sure if he liked the alternative better. Somehow, thinking to be the victim of Anti-Semitism left him feeling - dirty.

In the meantime, Megan thought this over. "Let's say this is true - why would members of the National Alliance want to take so openly aggressive actions against you?"

"You mean other than me being of the false religion?" Charlie asked with a bitter smile, back to avoiding her eyes.

"I never noticed you being very - religious. Nor Don for that matter," Megan pointed out.

"I am not. We are not," Charlie agreed. He and Don had never seen much appeal in religion, finding any consolation or strength in believing in a higher being and following rites that in Charlie's eyes had lost their original purposes centuries ago, now just being nothing more than public and social compulsions like getting your girlfriend something for Valentine's day or buying Christmas presents, eating Turkey on Thanksgiving. Their father had held a deeper belief, but since their mother's death he hadn't been in a Synagogue again to Charlie's knowledge. Of course, they had never talked about their beliefs since her death at all either. Now was hardly the time to dwell over this though. "But you know as well as me that a minor thing like this hardly means anything to people like that," he continued.

"So they just picked you randomly?" Megan asked skeptically. It was possible, she guessed. Charlie was a recognized, well respected and liked math professor and since his latest book had come out, being such a big hit, he had even became a local celebrity. And lately, it had dawned on the people around Charlie that he wasn't exactly poor either. All this could make him a target for a lot of hate crimes. Still, it just didn't quite fit.

And when Charlie remained silent, she knew there was more to it. "Charlie?"

Making a face, Charlie turned his eyes back to her, reluctant. "When I have time, I sometimes work on a program that infiltrates racist chat rooms and forums on the internet, trying to find cross-references between hate crimes and bragging on such boards, trying to link them and also, make it easier to put real names to the usernames. I had this idea when I first started to work gang related cases. I noticed that a lot of the people didn't just brag on the street about it - they even did it on some boards, under the protection of the anonymity of your user name. Or so they often think. I linked into some forums and I found some references to actual crimes and so then I enlarged my search, also going through racist and anti-Semitics boards."

"Like Stormfront?" Megan asked.

Charlie nodded. "Though that's a bit too open. You need to go deeper than that. But you can find the necessary links there."

"Charlie, why didn't you tell us this before? This for sure could very well be the reason for this attack," Megan wanted to know, not able to keep the exasperation and slight accusation quite out of her voice. "We should have know about this first thing."

"Because I haven't thought of it!" Charlie defended himself. "I haven't worked on this in months, Megan. And only few people know that I even work on a program like that, it still being in test phases and not ready yet to be actually put into active running so far. Surely, no one from NA should have gotten wind of this. So excuse me if I haven't thought to link this immediately. And like I said, I - remembered that name calling, if it's legit even, only lately, through my nightmares about that night. I still know nothing. There is no proof that I'm right with my suspicion that maybe, I've been beaten half to death just because I was born Jewish. I could as well be wrong. Perhaps, it had just been some muggers. Or maybe Don is right after all and this is all gang related. I. Just. Don't. Know!" Charlie exclaimed, not having noticed that his voice had considerably raised or that he was breathing hard. "And I'm tired of always being asked if I remember something, anything, if I have thought of someone else who might have wanted to hurt me like this when all I'd like to do is just get over it and move on. Because the way I see it, while I do want to know who did this to me and why and would like to see them prosecuted for this, I'm alive, nothing has really been permanently damaged and right now, that's really enough for me."

"Megan, I think it's time for you to leave now."

Charlie and Megan both looked up. Don stood in the open doorway and was now coming in, keeping the door open though, giving Megan an unmistakable order.

One she wasn't foolish enough to ignore. She gave her boss a slight nod before turning back to Charlie, smiling encouragingly. "Okay, Charlie, I'll look into it. Maybe we'll find something. You just take care of yourself."

Back to avoiding her eyes again, Charlie nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have flipped out like this," he mumbled. He really shouldn't have. But damn it, the past few days hadn't exactly been easy and he guessed Don wasn't the only short-tempered Eppes man at the moment.

"That's all right, Charlie, don't worry. I'm sorry too. For always asking," Megan countered, patting his arm before moving out.

"We'll talk later, Reeves," Don told her in a low voice as she passed him to what she just nodded.

Yeah, she had expected that. Though she wasn't sure if it was to get more information about her talk with Charlie, the progress on the case or to chew her out for upsetting Charlie but she guessed she'd find out soon enough. Until then she better saw to it to have some answers for him. Taking out her cell phone, she flipped it open and called David.

Back in the hospital room, Charlie briefly glanced at Don, then looked hastily away again. "Can we finally leave this place?"

Letting the door fall close, Don came over to the bed and held out his jacket. "Yeah, I've got your release papers. Here, let me help you put this on."

Charlie eyes the jacket. "I don't think it's that cold outside. Besides, it's just for the way out to the car. That are how many feet?"

"Just humor me, Charlie," Don sighed, holding it open.

Knowing the stubbornness of his brother, Charlie relented, not really wanting to fight - or rather said, thinking it wiser to save the strength for the fight he suspected was coming. But when his whole body ached after having the damn jacket on, he thought that maybe, he should have indulged into the fight after all.

When he tried to stand up, Don held him down. "The nurse will bring the wheelchair any moment now. Just relax until then."

Charlie made a face but did as he was told. He knew it was hospital policy and to be honest, he didn't mind not to have to walk. With the broken fibula it was still extremely tiring, especially as he hadn't had much time to exercise with the crutches. Which reminded him... "Do you have my prescriptions?"

Don nodded. "Got them in my pocket."

At that moment, the nurse showed up, rolling in the wheelchair. "Here we go, Dr Eppes."

Relieved, Charlie carefully slid from the bed and hoped over to the wheelchair, feeling his brother hovering close behind him to catch him, should he fall. Seriously, Don was worse at hovering and fussing over him than their father. He must have gotten that from their mother, who had been the worst hoverer he had ever seen. Not that he complained. At least not for the moment.

It took them longer to get to Don's SUV than he had anticipated but twenty long minutes later, he was finally on the way home for the first time in five days.

Don drove careful, more than usual - and he was surprisingly silent. Not that he had talked much in the last few days - but Charlie had expected him to say something about his talk with Megan. Somehow, his brother's silence made him nervous. So about ten minutes into the drive, it was him who caved and broke the silence. "Are we going to talk about it?"

Don kept his eyes onto the road. "Talk about what?"

"About what you've heard me and Megan talking about." Charlie frowned. "How much did you hear anyway?"

His brother took his time to answer, but when they stood at the next red light, he at last glanced at Charlie. "I've heard enough to know now that you still have nightmares, eventually reminding you of something though. And that you're a bloody idiot."

Charlie watched the muscles in his jaw clenching and just sighed deeply. "And how come so?"

The light turning to green, Don drove on. "If you're reckless enough to get involved with people like that, you have to expect repercussions. To think there aren't any is just plain stupid. Just like going and confront a known molester. What the hell were you thinking? Do you have a death wish or something? Because if you do, you better tell me now so I can prepare myself to have to go to your funeral sooner or later."

Okay... his big brother was obviously pissed. But at least he was finally talking and behaving more like the brother he knew and loved again.

"It's bad enough that you risk yourself like this, but that you just don't take any security measures is even worse. If you lie with dogs, Charlie, you've got to expect fleas and you damn well have to expect them to bite you. You want to go up against rapist, racists, gangsters or what do I know, terrorists, fine, do it, but don't do it on your own. You're not trained for that, Charlie. And for Heaven's sake, finally learn to take better precaution about yourself and your environment," Don continued his rant, his eyes firmly on the road, the knuckles standing out white a sure sign of his anger.

"But most of all, you damn need to start talking to me, Charlie!" Don hissed, finally turning his eyes, burning with fire, onto him at another red light. "I need to know about people like your molesting colleague or that you plan to go against organizations like the NA because otherwise, I can't protect you and when something happens like this attack, I get totally blindsided by it, not even having an idea why my brother had just been nearly killed!"

The cars behind them honked and cursing, Don drove on, his eyes back to look straight onto the road, his body humming with his rage though.

Charlie thought a long time about how to answer his brother. Finally, he decided to simply go with the truth and hard facts. "It is not your job to protect me, Don."

"Like hell it isn't!"

"It is not," Charlie insisted. "It never was. You did it anyway, and I know not just because Mom and Dad told you to look out for me. And I don't say I don't appreciate it. But I'm a grown man now, Don, and frankly said, while you've been away I have been just fine looking after myself. And I still am."

Don glanced at him, two hot glares. "Oh, I see how well you can take care of yourself."

Charlie ignored his brother's heavy sarcasm. "You want to know what my work all entails? Sorry, I can't. Most of it, at least the work that might get me in trouble, is classified - or it's already what I do for you and the FBI. Other than that, you have your own job and people to look after and you need a clear head for that. So I sure won't pester you with things you have no jurisdiction over anyway. You getting involved in those things could not just cost you your badge - it may even cost you your life because instead of concentrating on jour job and your safety, you're distracted with my problems and possible risks. I'm not going to do this, ever," Charlie told him flatly, keeping his eyes on his brother. "Or do you think I want to get a call about you being hurt or worse anymore than you want to get one about me? And just for the record, you've got the more dangerous job out of the two of us."

Don's jaw muscles clenched again as he gritted his teeth.

"And as for the current risk factors in my life: the professor checked out with an alibi, besides I highly doubt he would resolve to brutal force. From him I have to fear about attacks against my reputation and believe me, I'm prepared for that and know how to deal with such things. It wouldn't be the first time and probably won't be the last. And what concerns the NA: like I've told Megan, I haven't worked in months on the project and again, it's nothing more than a project at the moment with only a handful of people knowing about it. The likelihood that the attack is related to the project is small. But through the work I've already done I know that there is movement of the Alliance here in LA too and while they publicly are against open attacks against anyone, not all of the members are all so sophisticated and careful. If my attack was really a hate crime, and that's still a big if, then it's most likely that I just was picked out because of my success. Or perhaps I offended someone who is a member or close to a member or gave a son of a member a bad grade and that someone used my religion on paper as an excuse to get help for paying me back for it. There are dozens of possibilities, Don, and I really don't think I'm actually responsible for any of them."

At that, Don finally looked at him as he stopped the car. Charlie took a deep breath. "Please don't make me believe that I am to blame for this attack on me. I don't want to blame myself. I don't want to get lost in the what if's that may have prevented the attack. It happened. It was a cowardly, unfair attack against me. But I survived it and whatever was their intention, they didn't win. I won. I'm alive. I'm getting better. I'm going home now and soon, I'll be back at CalSci. And most of all, I'm not going to live in fear of a new attack from now on." He met Don's eyes. "I would have done that three years ago. Or two years ago. Hell, probably even six months ago. But not anymore. I'm not going to let them win. But I need you for that. Because if you let them win, I'll ultimately let them win as well."

"Charlie..." Don broke their eye contact and looked away. After a moment, he unfasted the seatbelt. "We're home. Wait in the car. I'll help you out and into the house where Dad has the couch ready for you."

Don was out of the car before Charlie could say anything more. With a deep sigh, he leant his head back against the head rest.

Well, that had gone well.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: Well, well, well, a lot of questions and perhaps a few answers... You'll see soon enough. Thanks for the many reviews and sorry for the late update: I got the flue and was out for a few days. But I'm back now and the last two parts follow soon. Hope you liked it!)_


	5. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

"Aw, man!"

For a millisecond, Don tensed, automatically reaching for his service piece while searching for the threat and possible cover from it, before his brain processed and identified the startled groan as the voice of his brother and he relaxed as he registered the person on the couch as Charlie, furiously blinking at the sudden light Don had turned on after silently entering the living room.

The recognition was followed by shock that he actually had been about to draw his gun against _Charlie_, even if it had been just for the break of a second. The shock had barely a chance to manifest when it was quickly replaced by terror and fear that he apparently was so on edge that he even reacted blindly here in his own childhood home. To his own brother. If Charlie had done anything more provoking than just sit unexpectedly on the couch...

God...

And Charlie wasn't even to blame for this as he hadn't triggered Don's reaction at all, at least not on his own fault. It wasn't like he had sneaked up on Don, something he knew he wasn't to do, ever, and most especially not when Don was armed - which was most of the time.

Of course, if he hadn't been sitting here in the dark, not letting anyone know that he was there by, hell, turning on the light or at least the television...

Right.

Falling back onto anger, Don glared at his brother, stalking over to him. "Jeez, Charlie! What the hell are you doing here in the dark? Have you any idea what a scare you just gave me?"

Still blinking slightly, Charlie gave back the glare. "You got scared? Make that two of us. Why are you sneaking into the house like a burglar, scaring the beejees out of me?"

Don gritted his teeth. "I was trying to be considerate of my family apparently sleeping. How was I to know that you weren't in bed doing just that when you didn't bother to turn on the light?" Taking a harsh but deep breath, Don let it out again and finally allowed his body and mind to relax - and become aware of the implication of the whole situation. "What are you doing up and sitting in the dark anyway?" he asked, much gentler, searching his brother's face for lines of distress or even pain. It had been three weeks since the attack, two weeks since Charlie had been back home.

It had been long three weeks, for both of them, and he wasn't surprised to see the familiar shadow in Charlie's eyes nor that he didn't give Don an answer. He didn't need to. His little brother had handled the aftermath of the attack pretty good, better than anyone had expected, but he was still plagued by nightmares about the night. Not too bad ones according to Charlie, but nightmare was nightmare.

Sighing, Don left Charlie on the couch and went into the kitchen, grabbing a beer for himself and a soda for Charlie. He also checked the refrigerator for leftovers and blessed his father when he found a heavenly looking roast beef sandwich, already on a tray. With his loot in his arms, he went back into the living room, removing his jacket, wallet, badge and holster before sitting down beside Charlie, keeping his gun with him though.

He never let the gun be out of reach around Charlie anymore, his fear that Charlie's attackers may try it again too great, no matter how hard the agent in him harassed the brother in him to not be so paranoid.

They were still out there and for now, Don just needed to be sure that Charlie was safe from them. So he had installed a new security system in the house, without asking Charlie fist which resulted in quite a fight. But the alarm was set in place. Without asking he also had spent every night he hadn't been working at home rather than at his own apartment, the same with the little free time he had had these past weeks. And for the time he wasn't home, he had hired a private security firm to keep watch over the house. Which had gotten him into another fight with Charlie. Nor had he allowed Charlie going to his various appointments by himself, always making sure that he was with him and if he couldn't, with someone else he trusted to keep his brother safe. And yes, Charlie had fought him on that too.

Actually, he and Charlie had had quite a few arguments these past few weeks. And as long as Charlie didn't come to his senses, this probably wasn't going to stop anytime soon. It didn't help that their father was getting more and more unnerved by their bickering and had talked to both of them to stop always arguing either. The last time his dad had confronted Don, he had even threatened to ground the both of them. Not that he had a chance to actually do this anymore. But still - his father could be scary.

Very scary.

And Don was absolutely sure that their Dad would find a way to actually really punish his sons for their impossible behavior as he had worded it.

But Don couldn't help it. He was in his rights in this matter. After all, all he wanted was to protect his little brother and make sure that the bastards who had hurt him wouldn't get to him again.

Once they were behind bars, he could lighten up on the security again.

Too bad they weren't any closer to finding Charlie's attackers than they had been the night of Charlie's attack.

Not really wanting to dwell on that, he turned on the television, settled back and enjoyed his sandwich.

And waited.

He and Charlie may fight a lot - but they did talk a lot as well these past weeks and he knew that when his brother sat here in the dark like he had been, then there was something he needed to talk about.

"I'm a bit nervous about tomorrow."

Don looked away from the TV show currently running to glance at his brother, whose eyes were settled on the screen, unfocused though. Well, Charlie wasn't the only one being nervous about the next day. Didn't mean Don had to let on on that though. "Relax, Buddy, it's going to be fine," he instead reassured Charlie, nudging him a bit, still careful of his ribs.

While most of Charlie's injuries had healed just fine and most bruises had faded, Don just couldn't help but still be careful while touching his brother, the sight of him broken and terribly hurt never far away.

Charlie sighed. "You think."

Don nodded, flashing him a grin. "Sure."

"What if they all act weird, walking around egg shells around me?" his brother though worried on. "I really don't need or want that. All I want is everything being normal again."

Don ignored the obvious jab at him and shook his head. "Charlie, it will," he simply said, hoping that his words were true. "Look, maybe they will be careful around you in the beginning, but I'm sure as soon as you get rid of the crutches and move around like the nervous energy bundle you usually are, things will return to normalcy. And you'll wish them being more mindful of you again."

"I guess," Charlie grumbled with a sigh, crossing his arms. "And I guess I'll have to thank them for all the cards and gifts as well," he added darkly.

Don grinned, thinking of the boxes filled with get well cards and the many stuff animals Charlie had received, mostly from his students, but also from friends and colleagues, embarassing the hell out of his little brother. It looked like Charlie was indeed well liked by everyone. Which was part of the problem finding the bastards, no one even having a hint of who could have done this to Charlie.

Again, Don pushed that thought away. "That's up to you, but I think Mom would definitely have a word to say to you if you don't. As it is, I would be careful: I'm pretty sure Dad has his spies at CalSci, reporting everything back to him," he advised Charlie good-naturedly.

"Don't I know it," muttered Charlie, then lit up a bit by nudging Don back. "I'm just glad he has them in the FBI as well. Are you sure in that file of Dad nothing is mentioned of him being a double spy or something like that?"

"Hey, I'm not the one with the top security level!" Don protested, wriggling his eyebrows. "If anyone can access his whole file it's you, not me."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Like I'm stupid enough to risk my life like that, top security or not."

Don chuckled and they fell into companionable silence, watching the TV show.

"Don?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you do me a favor?"

Listening up at the tone in Charlie's voice, Don forgot about the show and concentrated back onto his brother. "What favor?"

"Will you come with me to CalSci?" Charlie asked quietly, meeting his brother's eyes nervously.

Puzzled, Don raised an eyebrow. "I already told you that I'll bring you tomorrow for your first day back. Unless there's a terrorist attack, nothing will keep me from doing that."

But Charlie shook his head. "No. No, I don't mean tomorrow. I mean right now."

Turning off the sound at the television, Don sat up and turned to Charlie, frowning. "Why?" he demanded to know, not bothering to ask Charlie if he had heard right or not or reminding him that it was nearly two thirty in the morning - or demanding to know what the hell he was thinking, having this harebrained idea. He knew his brother. Charlie wouldn't have brought this up without having good reasons - at least in his eyes.

Charlie avoided to look into his eyes. "It's just that I'm really worried a bit about my reaction to be back. I mean, I'm fine, better than I anticipated to be after something like that happening and I think I'm ready to go back tomorrow - but then again, how can I not be fine in this fortress you made out of my home, with you constantly swarming around me like a nervous mother hen?" Charlie turned his head to meet Don's eyes and the worry and fear in them let Don's comeback about the comparison to a mother hen die on his lips. "What if I walk back into CalSci and the moment I come into sight of my office I get flashbacks or worse, a panic attack? Don, it's already bad enough coming back with everyone there knowing what happened to me that night - I really don't want to risk losing it in front of an audience on top of that." He took a deep breath. "So I want to go there, now, getting it over with, whatever my reaction will be." Before Don could reply anything, Charlie got up and looked down at him, pleading in his eyes. "Are you coming with me now or not?"

Don held his brother's eyes for a long moment. He hated to see the fear and uncertainty in the usual so confident dark eyes of Charlie, but he also saw the sincerity and determination there to do this now. The puppy dog eyes he ignored. They weren't necessary. As if he'd let Charlie go to CalSci out of all places on his own. No, it was seeing the need he saw in Charlie to do this, now, that made him get up silently, already grabbing his seven things again. "I'll go get your jacket."

Relief and slight surprise flooded Charlie's face at Don's lack of protest. "I can get my own jacket, thank you very much," he then protested though, hobbling towards the lobby.

"Charlie, I'm tired and not especially looking forward to going out again," Don told him with a slight glare. "So please don't make this difficult. I'm getting your jacket and you'll leave a note for Dad, just in case. And where are your crutches?" he wanted to know with a frown, looking around for them. "You're not supposed to move without them yet."

"I'm fine," Charlie muttered, changing direction to hobble over to the dining room table to write the note.

"The doctors have their reasons for their instructions," Don lectured impatiently, spotting the crutches behind the couch and bringing them over to Charlie, holding them out to him. "So do as you're told."

"I remember a certain someone getting himself released from the hospital against the doctor's strong protest. What was with following doctor's instructions then?" Charlie gave back, ignoring the crutches.

"That was then, me and totally different, this is now, you and will you just take the damn things?" Don shrugged, shoving them into Charlie's hands. "Or you can forget about this trip," he threatened with an afterthought, thinking that that would probably bring Charlie more to his senses than anything else Don could say.

Sure enough, Charlie finally accepted them, muttering under his breath though. Contented, Don left to go hunt for his brother's jacket. When he returned, Charlie took it, hesitated suddenly though, taking a closer look at his brother. He sighed. "Look, perhaps this isn't such a great idea. We should probably better just go to bed and catch a bit of sleep."

"And you're only thinking of this now, after sending me all over the place in order to get us ready to go?" Don asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry."

Don shook his head and sighed. He knew Charlie just tried to be considerate - he must look worse than he had thought. But this was just ridiculous. Clearly, Charlie needed this or he wouldn't have asked Don to do this and after everything that had happened, he really shouldn't think of the exhaustion level of his big brother. "It's all right, Charlie. I don't mind going."

Charlie looked doubtful. "You sure?"

"Positive," Don nodded. "Now, let's not waste more time and go."

This time, Charlie hobbled after him without another comment, dutifully using the crutches.

At least something had worked with the guilt trip he had sent his brother on, Don thought with a smirk.

* * *

The closer they got to his office, the more he felt Don tense beside him. Strangely, Charlie felt nothing at all.

Not that he complained about that. It was just unexpected. After the shooting in Don's office, he hadn't even been able to enter the whole damn building for a while and now here he was, so far not in the slightest way feeling panicked about being only few feet away from the spot where he had been beaten half to death three weeks ago.

While his brother on the other hand, always confident and the stand-up-guy, looked as if he'd rather be in an open shoot out with gangs, terrorist and a bunch of snipers together than be anywhere near this corridor.

If Charlie believed into the twilight zone, this definitely would be accurate to make him think that he had landed there or perhaps even in a parallel universe. But of course, he didn't believe in those things and he certainly would need more to convince him otherwise than just his and his brother's strange reactions.

Then again, who knew? Perhaps, the reaction everyone expected out of him would come the moment he stepped around the next corner and he'd see the crime scene for the first time since that night. And his reaction in turn would most probably snap Don out of his nervous state of mind to concentrate on taking care of his little brother and everything would be all right in this universe again.

Charlie slowed down, suddenly nervous.

"You okay?"

Startled at Don's quiet words, he glanced at him and offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, sure."

He had hoped that would convince Don but wasn't surprised to see that Don frowned, looking more closely at him. "You know, you don't need to do this."

"Yes, I have to," Charlie just protested and turned the corner. He really had to. This was his place of work. And tomorrow, there was likely to be a big bunch of people waiting here for him to welcome him back and Charlie surely wasn't going to risk having a panic attack in front of his students and fellow professors.

Not that he really expected anything to happen. He couldn't explain it, but he just wasn't all that worried about it. Not about going back, actually being rather relieved at getting out of the house and hopefully also away from Don's vigil of these past weeks, nor about his attackers being still out there. Contrary to Don, he doubted strongly that they would try anything again. And while he would have indeed liked to know who his attacker were and why they had felt the need to beet the crap out of him, he found himself accepting rather easily the more than likely possibility that nothing of that was ever going to happen.

Again, very contrary to his brother.

Glancing at Don, he frowned when he saw the slightly dazed eyes of his brother staring towards where Charlie had been attacked. Looking over himself, Charlie braced himself, just in case.

Nothing happened.

No flashbacks, no echo of harsh whispered hateful names, no memories, no accelerated heart beat, no harsh breathing, no sudden pressure on his chest or lungs, no walls closing in on him.

Simply nothing.

It was just the corridor and his office door, a sight he had seen a few billion times in the years he taught here at CalSi.

It was sort of - anticlimactic, Charlie mused as he moved forward, coming to a stop in front of his office to stare down, curiously. Of course no traces of the attack were left and once again, he did not get a flashback of himself lying here with blows raining down on him. It looked as if that was only reserved for the nightmares he still had and he was really relieved to not have to worry about continuing to work here anymore.

He could deal with the nightmares, the only real affect the attack had left with him - well, other than the injuries. Perhaps because even the nightmares weren't as bad as he had feared it and he strongly suspected that that was because Don had made him talk about them right from the beginning, after having had had his first nightmare about the attack. There had been two nights this week when he even had slept through peacefully.

All in all, he found he really had survived and handled this attack pretty good. And yes, he was a little proud of himself, knowing that not so long ago, he would have been a complete mess after something like this happening.

Once again, he wondered what had brought on this change. Was it being confronted with more and more violence, passive or impassive? Had his increased work with the FBI strengthened his self-confidence? Or was it perhaps the constant example to follow he had in front of his eyes with having Don back in LA for all those years, seeing how calmly he could face everything work and fate threw at him and unconsciously learning part of that from his big brother? Or had he perhaps just finally grown up for good over the last few years?

Charlie wasn't sure what it was or perhaps what combination of factors might have led him to be able to be so calm about the attack, he just welcomed it. Well, with time he sure would try to analyze it deeper, perhaps integrating it into his work on the Cognitive Emergence. But for now he was simply glad about it and concentrated on moving on and getting his life back.

Of course in order to do that, the people in his life had to get behind this as well, he thought resigned and looked back at Don who still stood just around the corner, staring blindly at the floor in front of Charlie's office.

Megan had said to give Don time to deal with it all. But it was three weeks and if anything, it had gotten worse, Don being more and more paranoid about his security with each passing day. Last Monday he had even told Charlie he would help him get a license to carry a concealed weapon. As if he wanted to walk around with a gun strapped on. He was a professor for Heaven's sake, he couldn't put his student's lives in danger like that! Not to mention that he still didn't like guns or believed in them. Okay, he had continued to take some shooting lessons after the sniper case, not just to get a better idea of all the factors involved but also to be able to handle guns should he ever come into the situation to need to use one. Something he hoped never to have to do - mostly because he figured the most probable cause for him having to handle a gun would be because Don couldn't and everyone knowing Don knew that that only happened when he was seriously hurt or worse. But still, if Don's or someone else's life depended on him knowing how to shoot then okay, he could learn that. This didn't mean though that he ever wanted to own a gun himself.

And Charlie had thought that perhaps, agreeing to take up a few self defense lessons would calm down Don. It wouldn't be his first. Actually, he already had gone through several lessons, the first time back at College, after his mom had moved back to LA and let him be alone, tired of always serving as a punching bag for frat boys. Then later, when he had started consulting, Bob had insisted on him taking some more lessons. He had had his last course years ago though and the way Charlie saw it, it couldn't hurt to actually refresh his memory, especially when it would help get him Don off his back.

Considering Don's last suggestion and also his reaction to returning to the crime scene, Charlie doubted though that some self defense lessons would do the deal. He wished he could help Don to get over this, but he didn't know how. They had talked about the attack and Don had said the things he had wanted to say about Charlie's lack of care in the security department. Charlie had listened, argued on the just ridiculous points and agreed on the more sensible points. Their dad had tried to talk to Don. Megan had. Colby and David had. Hell, Charlie had even sent Larry to talk to his pigheaded brother, knowing that sometimes Don actually understood the point behind Larry's often not quite reasonable words. When that had failed, he had suggested to Don to talk with his shrink about it - that had not gone well, Don being pissed for days. And yet, Don was still in his worst bodyguard mode.

But something had to happen. This couldn't continue like this.

It wasn't just the nuisance Don's security obsession meant for Charlie - if absolutely necessary, he could live with that. No, he was more worried about Don himself. Don hadn't gotten much sleep since the attack and it was starting to take a toll on him, Charlie could see that. And right now, Don was definitely not aware of his surroundings, caught in the flashback he obviously suffered. Something that scared Charlie deeply, knowing how dangerous such a thing was in his brother's line of duty.

Sooner or later, something was going to happen, Charlie was sure of that. Numbers don't lie after all.

And if something happened to Don because of this attack... he may have done well, dealing with this attack, but Charlie knew without a single doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be able to deal with Don getting hurt because of him or even worse...

No. He wasn't going to think about this now. Besides, Megan had said that during the job, Don was still the same, acting cool-headed and with as much precaution as possible. It was only his mood that had suffered and making life a bit harder for Don's co-workers. And this was Don after all, his strong, fearless big brother, against whom no one and nothing could get the upper hand. Surely, he would soon see reason and let go of his paranoia concerning Charlie's safety. He just had to!

And for now, Charlie was there. He may not be able to make Don snap out of it - but he sure as hell could be there for him and prove him every day that he was still there, alive, the same as always. And he'd watch out for his big brother while he dealt with whatever issues that plagued him so much.

Right.

"Don?" he called out, softly.

Don needed a moment, but then he blinked, his eyes focusing on his brother. "You okay?" he asked again.

Charlie nodded, wisely not giving that question right back at him. Don's answer would be that he was fine anyway. "Yeah, everything's all right. I'm good to go for tomorrow."

His brother nodded and slowly moved forward to come to stand beside Charlie, giving his back a reassuring slap. "Good." Looking down for a moment, Charlie recognized the investigator mode immediately when Don's eyes returned to him. "Remember anything more?"

With a sigh, Charlie shook his head. "No. I don't think there's more to remember. I've told you all I know time and time again already."

"Sometimes victims remember more details after returning to the scene where they've been assaulted," Don lectured him, the FBI agent fully in charge.

"I know that," Charlie replied, only slightly exasperated. "But coming back here doesn't change the fact that I simply haven't seen much when it had happened or that the very first blows already messed with my perception of the following minutes until I lost consciousness altogether. I told everything I remember and everything I assume from what the nightmares had brought on." He shook his head. "Things like this happen all the time. And you know better than me that the chance to catch the people responsible for an attack like mine are always slim to non-existent. Why can't you just accept this and let it go?"

Don's eyes bored into him. "Because it is _not_ the same," he finally said after a long moment, turning away abruptly. "Come on, now that you've done what you needed to do, let's go home while we still have a chance to get at least some hours of sleep in."

Sighing deeply again, Charlie stared after his brother's retreating back, hurrying away from this place as if the hounds of hell were after him. Grimacing, he started to hobble after him.

* * *

His hand hovering over the but of his gun, Don walked through the silent corridors, his eyes penetrating into every corner, his ears listening for any unusual sounds.

All stayed quiet.

He asked himself for the hundredth time if he was relieved or rather disappointed by that. Part of him was definitely glad that so far, no sign of another attempt on Charlie's life had occurred, but a great part of him really wished that they would try it again so he could bust them, put them away for a long time and finally be sure that Charlie had nothing to fear from those bastards anymore.

Not that his brother seemed to be much worried about another attack, making him way too careless about his own security once again in Don's opinion. The little idiot refused to listen to most of his brother's lectures about security measures. Not as if he as a seasoned FBI agent would have any idea about how to keep yourself accurately safe, Don thought darkly, rounding the last corner.

For just a second, his mind flashed back to almost three months prior when he had rounded this very corner to find his brother lying on the floor, not knowing if he was still alive or not.

He had become to hate this corner. So much that he sometimes took the other way, even though it was one hell of a detour. But everything was better than to relive this terrible moment over and over again.

And every time it happened, like now, he told himself to get a grip on himself and get over it. To forget it and just move on, like everyone told him to do.

But he couldn't.

Not completely.

Oh, he had come to terms with it, more or less. He was long since back at work, back at fighting crime and hauling guilty people into jail. His temper had evened out and he wasn't as short-tempered anymore as he had been right after the attack on Charlie. Hell, he had even talked about it with Bradshaw a couple of times in the end, despite his instinctive rejection of the very idea of it when Charlie had first suggested that.

Mostly, his life was back to normal.

Mostly.

If it weren't for these flashbacks and the nightmares. Or this irrational fear about Charlie that he just wasn't able to shake off anymore.

Then again, was it really so irrational?

They had never caught the bastards beating up Charlie, never finding out who it had been or why. The most likely theory was still that it were some white idiots believing to be superior than anyone who didn't meet their precious standards. They had looked for connections between the campus and the National Alliance, and while they had been able to find some people, they all had checked out with an alibi and they simply couldn't pursue any possible connections to those people simply on a hunch.

Basically, Don had to admit that probably, they would never find out who had attacked his little brother, nearly killing him, or why exactly for that matter.

This was a bitter pill for Don to swallow and to be frank, the pill was still stuck in his throat, even after the two months that had passed since the attack. He hated this, he hated it with a passion. Of course he knew that there was still a great deal of crimes that never got solved. He himself had some open cases he never had been able to close, though no one lately. If he thought about it, not one since Charlie started to help them out and propelling the solving rate of Don's team into unknown heights. Not that he had done bad before that. He always had had a good solving rate, thanks to his pretty good gut instinct and sharp intellect, one of the reasons why he had moved up in the ranks so quickly and now being a well respected field agent and team leader. But with his brother and his incredible mind joining them they were nearly unstoppable.

Just because of this he could hardly support that the one crime that had threatened to affected Don's life the most was the one case he couldn't solve, the one culprit he couldn't catch. And because he had failed in his job, as a big brother to protect Charlie and also as a FBI agent to then solve at least the case, the men nearly killing his brother were still out there, undisturbed and able to go after Charlie again whenever they wanted to.

Not if he had a say about this, Don reminded himself grimly and closed the short distance between him and Charlie's door. He briefly knocked as not to startle him (not that that was really of any use) and tried the door. When it opened smoothly, he scowled and entered.

Sure enough, there was his little brother, bouncing in front of a white board, his hand flying over the board, headphones over his ears playing whatever music Charlie had wanted to listen to in undoubtedly much higher levels than it was good for the eardrums. For a moment, Don watched him, the bundle of nervous energy that never seemed to power down that was his brother. Well, used to always be full of life. Don could very well remember the night he had seen him crushed here on the floor and then lying impossible still in a hospital bed.

Damn it!

It was over! Charlie had survived, his injuries had healed and he was back to his two hundred percent self, nothing able to stop that overactive amazing brain of his, back to being the annoying little brother Don had known all his life. Why could Don not appreciate that rather than remembering that horrible night whenever he saw Charlie again, especially here at CalSci?

He had to get over it, somehow, he knew that, but in the face of the danger of losing Charlie, this was not exactly easy.

Right. He was here for a reason.

Gritting his teeth, Don went over to him and, knowing better than to try to get his brother's attention by merely calling out to him, he touched him on the shoulder and turned off the MP3 played.

"Time to go home, Chuck," he told him firmly.

Charlie only glanced at him briefly, his eyes betraying that he hardly was in this realm yet, still too much engrossed in his numbers. "Just a moment, I need to finish this."

"And I need to get some sleep," Don contradicted and took the marker out of Charlie's hand. "Now come on, hurry up."

Charlie blinked and it took him a moment, but he came up from the depth of high mathematic to finally look back at his brother with clear eyes - and annoyed. "Then go home, Don, and let me finish my work here. If I remember correctly, I haven't asked you to come pick me up, have I?"

"Let's not have this discussion again, Charlie," Don tried to put an early stop to the argument he knew was coming. "Just pack your things and let's go."

No such luck though as the stupid dork of his brother of course had to argue back. "Don, you know I love you, but for the last time, you're my big brother, not my father, not my keeper or even my bodyguard and sure as hell not my boss so you are in no place whatsoever to tell me what to do or not, certainly not regarding my work hours. I'm not finished yet and I won't leave before I haven't finished this," Charlie fumed, pointing at the equations on the board.

"You and I both know that you'll be able to finish whatever this is as well at home as you can do it here, if it's really so important," Don pointed out. "Now will you just please come and let me drive you home?"

"No."

Don narrowed his eyes, truly losing his patience. If this was what was having children like he could very well live without them. "Charlie."

But Charlie just met his brother's eyes square and fearless. "Don't Charlie me. This is important and urgent. And no, I can't work this from home because once I have the preliminary math done, I'm going to need to run it through the super computer. And no, this can't wait until tomorrow morning, and not just because it's booked from five o'clock straight to 10 pm. So please, just go home and let me do my job."

Don looked back at the board. God, he was tired. He was dead on his feet, having had thrown himself into catching the guys he could and getting in little sleep. Part of him just wanted to cave in. But he couldn't.

He wasn't going to get a call like that again. He wasn't going to ever have to see his brother like that again.

On the other hand though, he wasn't tired enough to not catch up onto the subtext of Charlie's words. "What's this anyway?" he asked mistrustfully, nodding at the board.

"Something that can't wait," Charlie evasively said but the time he took to answer more or less answered Don's question already.

Shit.

Some government case then. He bet NSA. They loved to waltz into his brother's life and demand his immediate attention, no matter the consequences for his life or security. He could never get Charlie to leave under these circumstances - nor would he be able to leave him behind, alone and unprotected, now not only his assailants a possible threat.

Resigned, Don looked around. "You really need a couch in here," he muttered, sauntering past Charlie to sit down onto his desk chair once he had slipped out of his jacket and hang it around the chair.

"What do you think you're doing?"

At that stupid question, Don just sent him a glare.

His face darkening, Charlie shook his head vehemently and stepped towards him. "Oh no. You're not staying!"

"Not my first choice either, Chuck," Don replied sarcastically and leant back, putting his feet onto the desk, moving his gun from its holster to his lap. Still, it wasn't very comfortable. "That's why you need a couch in here so there's at least one option a bit more comfortable than these chairs."

"I'm here to work. And I need to concentrate for which I need to be alone. Seriously, Don. You can't stay here. Go home, sleep. Or go for a beer. I don't care. Just go away," Charlie insisted, glaring at him.

"You know this is not going to happen. And don't pretend that me being here can seriously disturb your concentration. As soon as you've put back on your headphones you're lost to the real world," Don simply told him, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "So why don't you go back to your math? The sooner you finish this, the sooner we get out of here."

But Charlie threw the headphones onto the desk with pretty much force. "Damn it, Don!" he cursed, leaning onto the desk to glare at him. "This has finally got to stop! Since that stupid attack happened you're just not reasonable anymore! You drive me all around the city, bringing me here or to the FBI, driving me home again and if you're unavailable, you send a poor guy from that ridiculous security service you hired. This is simply ridiculous! I need my life back and you, you need to get a life!"

"This is not up for discussion, Charlie," Don replied tiredly, glancing at the door. "Which reminds me, why was your door unlocked again? I told you to keep it locked when you're here late and alone." He pointed at the board. "Especially when you're working on a sensitive case. Do you _want_ to make it easy for anyone trying to get to you?"

"No, but I refuse to live in a prison as well," Charlie pressed out through gritted teeth.

Don rolled his eyes. "Locking your door as a precaution measure is hardly comparable to a prison."

"But all this is! You sticking to me like glue or having someone else on me all the time, you ordering me around, robbing me of my own choices. I don't like to work in locked spaces, especially if they're small like my office. And for your information, I informed the night guards about still being here, probably having to stay the entire night. Not that they don't patrol past my office every half hour anyway after you scared them half to death about the lax security here on campus," Charlie countered, straightening up again, clearly agitated now. "Jeez, Don, I played along long enough now. I gave you more than enough time to snap out of this but apparently, this is not going to happen. But this is stopping now: I don't want you to drive me around anymore unless I ask you to give me a lift, don't call every thirty minutes when you know I'm here past my office hours, call the bodyguards off and for Heaven's sake, get over this!"

"Charlie, how many times do I have to remind you that they are still out there! We've got to be careful!" Don pointed out, exasperated.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that the likelihood about those people attacking me again is minim?" Charlie asked back, as exasperated, but some of his agitation had dissipated. He came around the desk and sat on it, facing Don. "I've shown you the probability tables on this and other possible threats. And really, Don. I don't care about them being out there. Not much. I can live with them never being caught. Why can't you?"

His irritation dying down as well, Don met his brother's soulful eyes and smiled ironically, too tired to fight anymore. "Because I can't stand the thought that they've hurt you and go free for it. Because when I stood by your hospital bed, I made an oath that I was going to bring these guys to justice for hurting you. Because I can't lose my little brother."

Charlie's eyes bored into him. "You haven't lost me."

Don shrugged. "Luck."

Charlie shook his head, but smiled as well, a bit lopsided. "Come on. As if a little beating like that could stop me from continuing to be the perfect little pain in the ass brother to you. And as for your oath: I appreciate the sentiment, but Don, you've done all you could. Your team did all they could. The LAPD did all they could. And I too. There is nothing left that you could still do so really, consider your promise to me fulfilled. I say it's even more than fulfilled," Charlie willed Don to see the truth in his words. Don let his words sink in, wanting to believe them. But... "Besides, Dad still needs his grandchildren and as we all know how your love life looks like, or rather said, lack of thereof, it looks like that one's on me," Charlie pointed out with a lopsided smile after a moment.

Taking a deep breath, Don let it out again. And then he smirked. "Want to tell me something, Chuck?"

"Oh no. Definitely not. I still have years for that. But I tell you, if you continue like this, I'm never going to be even able to provide those grandchildren," Charlie grinned back. "And I tell you one thing, you'll have to answer to Dad for that, sure as hell not me, _Donald_."

Don gave a bark of laughter and leaned back, closing his eyes. Now that was something he definitely would avoid like the pest. Their father was scary when it was about his non-existent grandchildren. Opening his eyes again, he regarded Charlie with a long, searching look.

"It's not that easy, Charlie. I can't just let go," he admitted, truthfully.

"I understand," Charlie said softly and leaned forward to squeeze Don's knee. "So take it step by step. First step being you going home now and go to sleep. To be frank, you look like you need it. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. You can call me once you're home and then in the morning, I'm calling you to tell you that I had a perfectly calm night."

Don shook his head. "No."

"Don!" Charlie whined.

"I'm too tired to move, let alone to drive home," Don continued. "Fighting with you is exhausting."

His brother looked at him skeptically.

Don held up his hands and grinned a little. "Seriously. So I'll just take a nap here."

"That's not very comfortable," Charlie replied, still eyeing him mistrustfully.

"I've slept in worse places, believe me," Don waved that away. His eyes fell onto the board. "Is that dangerous?"

Charlie looked back. "The risks for this is well acceptable," he answered, again evasively.

That wasn't enough for Don though. "Do they expect trouble on this one?" he further asked.

Charlie shook his head.

So far so good. But Don wasn't finished yet. "And does anyone involved in this and not being on our side know you're working on this?"

Again, Charlie just shook his head.

Okay. Hesitating only a second later, Don sat up and removed his holster, put his gun into it and slowly leaned forward to lay it onto the desk beside Charlie, meeting his brother's eyes.

Charlie looked at the gun, then back to his brother and smiled, his dark eyes shining proudly. "Now, was this so hard?" With a slap onto Don's shoulder, Charlie hoped down from the desk, grabbed the marker and the headphones and moved back to his board.

Don watched as within seconds, Charlie was gone, back into that world of his, filled with numbers, equations and patterns. His eyes slid back to his gun and slowly, he leaned back, making himself as comfortable as it was possible on this chair.

Charlie had no idea but yeah, laying his weapon down just now had been one of the hardest things Don had ever done in his life. Then again, Don did agree with Charlie: he couldn't continue like this, it not only wearing him down, but he felt that if he didn't learn to let go of this paralyzing fear about Charlie, his relationship with his brother would suffer from it.

And that was as unacceptable as losing him.

So mostly because of that, Don decided to give this step by step program a chance. And maybe tomorrow, he'd let Charlie go home on his own.

Closing his eyes and sliding deeper into the chair, Don admitted to himself that he would have to learn a way to live with the thought that Charlie's attack would go unpunished and that he would never be able to repay the bastards for daring to hurt his little brother. He hated that and he was still uneasy about them being still out there, fearing another attempt on Charlie. And he would still see to it that Charlie would be more careful in the future, and if it cost him every last nerve he had. Then, hopefully, he would be able to relax again.

He still marveled at the fact that this brutal attack had affected him so much. If asked prior to it, he'd have always said that Charlie would have problems dealing with it, with Don having to help him through it. And now it had turned out that Don took this a lot harder than Charlie.

When had his little brother grew to be so strong?

It didn't matter. Despite the trouble Don had with dealing and accepting all this, there were two good things that had come out of it: First, he grew aware of just how vital and important Charlie was for him, appreciating having him more than he had ever before in his life and second, he had learned a few things more about Charlie, seeing his strength, confidence and also his new ability to deal so well with a crisis, making Don incredible proud of his little brother.

Yeah, that was at least something. And Charlie had been also right with another thing he had said, back when Don had brought him home from the hospital: whoever had beaten him up may go free - but they hadn't won. Charlie had won, by surviving, by living his life as he used to - well as much as Don had let him.

But he could see this now, finally, and he thought that maybe, it was time to adapt this view of this crime against Charlie. So far, these bastards had perhaps not won over his little brother, but they had won over Don, planting in him the dread of losing Charlie, causing him to maybe overdo his protectiveness of his little brother just a little bit.

Not anymore though.

They could perhaps go free but he'd be damned if he let them win on top of that.

Nodding to himself, Don let go of his thoughts and drifted off to a long needed, peaceful slumber.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: At last, the next chapter. I'm sorry for the hold: I was about preparing the next post when I had the marvelous impression that something was just missing and I couldn't bring myself to post it like that, so I took a little out time to add the scenes I felt missing. Now it's definitely finished though (well, apart from being beta-ed) and there's only one little part left. Hope you liked it! Thanks for all the encouragement and reviews!)_


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Wow. Sleeping Beauty finally arises."

Blinking his eyes open, Don needed a moment to gather his surroundings. Ah. Charlie's office. Stretching, his eyes fell onto his brother, slouched into one of the visitor chairs on the other side of his desk, going through a stack of papers, regarding him with a highly amused smirk. "Hey," he croaked.

"I thought you'd awake soon," Charlie said, nodding to a cup of coffee standing in front of Don. "The smell of that brew has awoken everyone so far, to my knowledge."

Don raised his eyebrow. "Is that for me?"

Charlie nodded, turning his attention back to his papers. "Surely not for me. One sip of that thing and I'm spinning for three days straight. For you it might just be strong enough though."

Sitting up, Don moved his head from side to side to loosen the stiff muscles there and then helped himself to a large sip of the coffee.

Holy...

"Told you," Charlie remarked dryly, unfazed by his brother's sputtering.

"What is this brew?" Don wanted to know, making a face, the bitter taste still strong on his tongue and burning down his throat.

"The self brewed coffee of our chemistry department." Charlie looked up. "It tastes awful. But it sure wakes you up. They're trying to make it taste better. For five years now I think. You ask me, nothing can make this brew tasting good."

Don eyed the cup mistrustfully. "But it's safe to drink it?"

"The only risk is being on high power for eighteen to seventy-nine hours, depending on your tolerance level and how much you drink of it," Charlie told him matter-of-factly.

Eying it some more, Don finally shrugged and took another sip - a tiny one - and looked around. The office door was closed, but Don could hear people passing by in the corridor and judging by the noise coming from the outside through the slightly open window, he guessed that morning had arrived and taken its course. His eyes fell onto the board, now wiped clean. "You finished?" he asked, nodding towards it.

"Hmm," Charlie nodded absentmindedly. "Already sent it off. It wasn't that hard to do - it was just urgent."

"Then what are you working on now?" Don asked curiously.

"Grading papers."

"Have you slept at all?" Don asked with a slight shake of his head, resigned. Not that he could say much. Heaven knew he had had his own worked through nights, many of them.

Charlie looked up to grin at him. "Hey, you took the only chair a halfway decent sleep is possible in. But relax, I've only got one lecture today, in about forty minutes, then I'll head home to catch up on the missed sleep."

Don was glad to hear that but something irked him at his brother's words. "What time is it anyway?" he asked, already looking at his watch. His eyes widened and he jumped up. "Shit! Why the hell didn't you wake me up! I'm way late for work!"

"Och, you were sleeping so cutely, I just couldn't wake you up," Charlie replied with a mocking grin. "So I called in that you'll be at the office later today."

Don stopped in his tracks on his way out. "You what?"

His grin widening, Charlie nodded. "Megan didn't seem all that upset about it. Quite the contrary. I quote: 'Tell him to take his time'. And I think I definitely heard Colby and David cheering in the background."

"Damn, Charlie, what the hell were you thinking!" Don growled, looking for his gun, growing nervous when he couldn't see it. "Where's my gun?"

Putting away the papers, Charlie got up to round the desk. Taking out his key ring, he opened the left top drawer. "I locked it away before I left you to go to the super computer. I didn't want it laying around with you sleeping. And before you ask, yeah, I locked the office as well."

Sighing with relief, Don took his holster and checked the weapon out of habit. It was good thinking of Charlie - on the other hand, should have there been an intruder, he would have cursed to not be able to have his gun ready. What surprised him more though was the fact that he had slept through all that. Charlie moving around, leaving and coming back and who knew what else. He wasn't a heavy sleeper, not with his job. The faintest noise could wake him up usually and now he had slept through for almost nine hours, sleeping in when he had to work for the first time that he could remember? And, thinking of it, it had even been a calm sleep, not disturbed by any nightmares like the little sleep he had had in the past almost three months. Glancing at Charlie, he wondered if it was thanks to his exhaustion finally catching up with him that he had been able to sleep that well (on a chair even) or if his brother's presence and Don's late new insight about this whole business with Charlie's attack had to be rather credited for that. He had a hunch it was the later.

Perhaps he was really finally letting go of it.

"I need to get to the office. You've got a way home?" Don wanted to know, grabbing his jacket.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Don't worry about that."

Remembering his decision to lighten up on Charlie and his security, Don nodded. He would make sure to call though, just for case. He couldn't switch off his worry just like that. "Okay, Buddy, see you in the evening."

Sitting down into his own chair, Charlie just waved him away, already engrossed in his grading again. Turning, Don headed out, stopped at the door again though, remembering a silent promise he had made himself at Charlie's hospital bed. "Hey, Charlie?"

Curious as to what Don wanted now, Charlie looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"You free this weekend?" Don asked.

Now truly intrigued, Charlie nodded, raising his eyebrow a bit higher.

"Want to go for a trip? I thought sailing perhaps. Or a hike, if you want and think you're up to that," Don suggested.

Charlie's injuries had healed already for a while now - but he wasn't back to his usual stamina and Don thought a hike was perhaps a bit too much for him yet.

His brother's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, but Don noted with some amusement that otherwise, Charlie tried to keep his excitement down. "Sure," he simply agreed with a shrug.

"Good. We'll work out the details tonight then," Don in turn answered casually himself and with a last wink, left.

Sometimes it really amazed him how easy he could make his brother a pleasure, with how little Charlie could get so excited. But it for sure was one of the perks of being a big brother, though he had to admit, that when it was so easy to please Charlie, he really could make more of an effort to actually do it, spend more time with him, just the two of them.

Not just for Charlie. For him as well. He had realized that if he had lost Charlie with this attack, he would have had a lot to regret, not spending enough one-on-one-time with his little brother being at the top of that list.

Well, the first step was done now. And it wouldn't just remain at one step, he swore that to himself with a last glance at the building that housed Charlie's office.

* * *

As soon as the door closed behind Don, Charlie looked up and shook his head, smiling warmly though. A trip! Don hadn't suggested actively doing more with each other other than spending a night or lunch here and there or watching a game and hanging out at Charlie's over the weekend since - well, since a long time. So naturally, he was thrilled at the prospect.

Still, that wasn't what pleased him the most at the moment. He had the feeling that finally, his brother had realized that he had way overdone it with his over protectiveness. This would be the first time that Charlie would be able to go home on his own since the attack and to him, that was a big step. Not that Charlie hadn't appreciated the thought. But God, Don had simply gone nuts in the past few months, barely letting Charlie go anywhere alone, always around, always on edge, expecting another attack any moment.

It wasn't that Charlie hadn't worried about that either. But somehow, Don's - overreaction to the attack had shown Charlie very fast that he couldn't allow himself to live in fear now. It _was_ unlikely that this happened again. And even if he hadn't had the statistical proof of that, he still had to enjoy life and not spending it in fear of what might or might not happen.

He was glad that Don seemed to slowly snap out of it, guaranteeing that Charlie could truly finish up with the attack and close the door on that one once and for all now.

Also, he was glad that Don had finally allowed himself to catch up on some much needed sleep and, from what Charlie could tell and what was more important, a sleep without any nightmares. Sure, Don hadn't spoken openly about them but Charlie was no fool - and no stranger to nightmares. He knew the signs and by the reassurance he had seen Don make after waking up from time to time it wasn't hard to guess what the nightmares had been about. He had worried about Don, looking more and more exhausted by each passing day, and he hadn't been alone in that worry. His team had really been relieved to hear that their boss had finally been able to sleep, Megan even daring Charlie to wake him up when he had called to see if he could let his brother sleep in or if he was needed at the office.

That Don had gotten a small taste of how he had dictated Charlie's life in the past hadn't hurt either. Actually, that was a pretty big plus point after the last months. For months Don had expected of Charlie to leave home or work whenever it was convenient for his brother rather than for him, never listening to any protests. And now, just for once, _he_ had decided when Don left for work and yeah, that really had served him well.

And of course, there was this other little private revenge Charlie had taken the liberty to take against his brother, for all the harassment Don had imposed on him, Charlie remembered with a wide grin. He wondered how long it would take for Don to realize that Charlie had sent a MMS to his team, of their peacefully sleeping boss. Knowing Colby, it wouldn't take Don long.

Thinking about it, perhaps, he should rather make a little trip to Larry's monastery, instead of going home, just for case. And only go home when he knew it was relatively safe with their father being home to play referee. Even though that would mean to go without sleep even longer.

Oh well, sleep was overrated. Especially as Don would kill him for that picture anyway. He'd get enough sleep then.

But it so had been worth it, Don looking so damn comical with his head and limps hanging over the chair, his mouth wide open. He wasn't drooling at least. Charlie would definitely be dead if he had drooled as well.

As it was, there was only a chance of seventy-nine per cent that Don would kill him for that picture.

But God, that twenty-one per cent were so worth living for!

_**The End

* * *

**_

_(Author's Note: Finally! I hope you all enjoyed it. Even though I know some of you are disappointed that they didn't catch the bad guys for once. But to be realistic, sometimes you just can't solve the case and I did want to see for a change how our favorite brothers dealt with that. Many, many thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I hope to have a new story (I'm working on two) or a new chapter for Roles Reversed ready for you soon.)_


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